


The Rebel Queen

by scribeofmorpheus



Series: The Forgotten Skirmish [1]
Category: Disney - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Poe Dameron (Comics)
Genre: A dark royalty skirmish, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Ankhural, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bounty Hunters, Canon Divergence - Star Wars Expanded Universe, Canto Bight, Character Death, Civil War, D'Qar, Drama & Romance, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Force-Sensitive Original Character(s), Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Gangsters, Gen, Loss of Limbs, Love & War, Mercenaries, Minor Character Death, Mobsters, Multiple Storylines, Murder, Mystery, Original Mythology, Original Planets, Other, Politics, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Pre-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Rebels, Royalty, Slow Burn, Space Opera, Space Stations, Star-crossed, Takodana, Uneasy Allies, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2020-07-25 13:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 81,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20026720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribeofmorpheus/pseuds/scribeofmorpheus
Summary: A princess on the run, a reluctant pilot with a secret mission and a former admiral lost to the stars.When Calista Ordell’s whole life is thrown into disarray by the malicious actions of her power-hungry aunt, she is left with no choice but to leave her homeworld, and her people, behind. To reclaim her birthright, she must seek out an old friend with the key to assuring the Resistance's aid.Along the way, she meets the disgraced former rebel pilot Odhen Boro, the enigmatic droid, Watts and his creator, the neurotic and brilliant Jawa, Ton-Ton. Eventually, fate finds a way of bringing a reluctant hero in the form of one heavily opinionated, Poe Dameron into the fray.Through the ensuing chaos, Poe finds himself falling for the headstrong, but equally flawed princess. Could something become of their blossoming relationship or will they have to sacrifice one more thing in the name of honour?Meanwhile, civil unrest engulfs Thesmora as Duchess Maligma begins talks with the First Order, allowing their troops to install an outpost on its borders, causing a schism to form between the people she now rules over.





	1. Prologue: Wreathed in Flame

**Author's Note:**

>   
_Ever wonder what it would be like if the cutthroat politics associated with the Iron Throne was integrated into the large expanse of the space opera Star Wars? No? Well, this is the brutal and bloody royal squabble no one asked for, but you’re getting it anyway! Original Characters and Planets!_   
[Read about Thesmora](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20071990)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This is the prologue so we won’t meet the main characters in this chapter, this scene sets up the stage for another character who will become important as we go along. I hope you give this fic a chance, it’s 90% original characters I know, but I’ve been struggling to get this out into the ether and… here it is. Events occur between **TFA** and **TLJ.** _   


**⸙**

  
Mokk-Toh

**~Somewhere in the Outer Rim…**

"I think I lost him," Mokk-Toh breathed heavy, sweat trailing down his face along his proud age lines. There was no fear in his eyes. No, that had been trained out of him at the Academy, but something was hiding behind his apathetic mud coloured eyes, a failure to reconcile. An internal schism.

"Contact me as soon as you meet with your contact," Lenora's hologram relayed in an unwavering tone. Her voice a beacon of strength in the fray.

He gave a slow nod, his eyes closing for a second too long.

A chiming sound rippled through from the hologram. Lenora turned and sighed, something disturbed her, but now wasn’t the time to offer his ear. "My sister requests an audience with me."

Lenora looked him in the eye, a youthful smile reversing the signs of age from her face for a brief moment. The cold blue projection of the transmission washing away all of her warm colours. And yet, tranquillity took purchase in his thoughts, like calm waves washing away the jagged glass that littered across the golden shores of his mind.

Lenora always had this effect on him. She was his queen and the power she had over him was unquantifiable. She was the only one who ever made him feel fear, fear from vulnerability. From a look so simple, so earnest, he felt like he had been permitted to breathe again. The pain knocking against his joints was starting to ebb away.

"Be careful," Lenora said sincerely. "Come back to me."

Her words meant something else.

He would always give her the same answer, "Don't I always?"

His words meaning something different too.

This was their way, their mantra through the years; substituted words for the ones they could never be allowed to say aloud.

Lenora's smile grew wider, her hand pausing for a moment before the hologram cut out leaving Mokk-Toh alone to bandage his wounds under the cover of damp, mossy steam tunnels. He tore a piece of cloth from his coat, wrapping the blue material around the long cut than ran up his arm. Blood manifested as dark spots on the fine material.

Resting his head against the damp, Mokk-Toh used this time of quiet to rest his eyes and regain some strength. He had been hunted from one quadrant to the next, relentlessly. The bounty-hunter who saught after him was a force of reckoning, a rageful spirit trapped beneath soldered armour.

He had heard whispers of such a creature grace the lips of many a people. In his travels, Mokk-Toh had prayed that such stories were just that, stories -whispers in the dark. But now he wasn’t so sure that this ghostly creature stalking after him was completely dead. The underworld called him Versengen and he was shaping up to be a worthy adversary.

The air began to tingle, his lower spine prickling with energy. There was a disturbance in the space around him. Something unhinged was disrupting the calm that he had savoured so much. It wasn't until the clanky sound of metal meeting concrete resonated through the abandoned tunnels that he realised the hunt had started up again. Despite the contusions and seeping cuts that wore his body down, Mokk-Toh gripped the wall and forced his legs to go on. Running from the flames that began to seek him out, hungry and volatile, the heat almost close enough to touch.

A thud echoed behind him as the explosion kept clawing forward like a rabid dog. The pressure of a bruise on his leg forced him to hobble, the fire sticking to the cylindrical walls of the tunnels with the adhesion of water. Droplets of moisture fizzling out into pitiful clouds of steam.

"How long do you think you can keep this up?" A distorted voice behind the wall of flames bellowed out. Breathing morphed into a mechanical whir from the blocked mouthpiece of his helmet, each breath was slow and purposeful and menacing. It was clear now that Versengen didn't run after his prey, the flames did that for him.

Mokk-Toh could all but taste the anger hiding behind those taunting words, it seeped from him like the scent of pyrotechnics. It was contagious, like a sickness. Rage was always so easy to tap into, but it was also poisonous. That was probably why Mokk-Toh felt a delirious schism pulling across his tendons, writhing and grinding until they swelled with a discombobulating feeling of deep-seated gloom. The despair and torment mangling and choking the aura beyond the flames into a presence devoid of colour, devoid of life but flaring with repressed contemptment.

As he kept up his fight, one foot in front of the other, one foot a misplaced step from being devoured by flames, Mokk-Toh spotted a forking path leading to a spillway.

"I will find you," Versengen promised as the flames died down, replaced by a thick curtain of black smoke. He was all but foaming at the mouth.

When he looked behind him he saw the bounty-hunter emerge from the blackness.

Versengen was a monster stitched together from the remnants of older, more obsolete monsters. His armour pieced together from fallen Stormtroopers; the red plating on his chest scavenged from a shock trooper; the camo-green helmet and knee padding stolen from a scout; and a scorched black arm ripped off a death trooper. Scratches, indents and charred metal plates imposed upon the greens, blacks and reds of his patch-work armour. Ashen marks a clear indication of his proclivity for fire. The flames that once devoured his cloak were nothing more than singe marks now. It was like he found solace in being bathed in flame the same way Mokk-Toh would find solace in Lenora’s warm sea-foam eyes.

Mokk-Toh stopped dead in his tracks when he came to the edge of the spillway. The jump a long way down. The water at the bottom too peaceful in contrast to the perilous atmosphere above. He clutched his collar and steadied his breathing.

Versengen's heavy footsteps had stopped a few feet away, another incendiary grenade pressed between his palm and thumb. Mokk-Toh imagined him smiling beneath his verdant green helmet.

Versengen tilted his head to the side, watching Mokk-Toh debate between fighting and jumping. With an exhale, he dropped the grenade, pressure-trigger activating, the sound of a spring popping sounded out as metal met concrete once more.

He closed his eyes, imagining Lenora's smile and finding strength in that fleeting picture, fingers wrapping around the data-chip looped around his neck. The wind trickled against his nape, his loose hairs brushing forward, and with determination, he stepped off the edge. Just then, the hissing roar of growing flames danced to life.

Versengen's unhinged laugh seemingly feeding the flames.

Mokk-Toh's body hit the water like a tonne of bricks, an unnatural sound rippling into the waves as he felt a bone rub against another and snap. The force of the fall smacking against the base of his skull like a lead pipe to the face. An unintended gasp forced what little air he had swallowed to bubble out. The distorted sight of orange flames viewed beneath blue waters transformed into his new sky. Speckles bombarded his dark eyes until all he saw was a sheet of white.

_“Come back to me.”_

_“Don't I always?”_

A venomous sneer echoed down through the water, "This isn't over..."

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _During my research of Polynesian and Native cultures -which inspired and influenced a lot of Thesmora's cultural and phenotypical features- I came upon an interesting cause that I will link below and hope you check out. I will try and make it a habit to link causes/articles/petitions of interest which aren't getting much global coverage at the end of each chapter -because this whole fic wouldn't exist in its current form without these cultures. Feel free to let me know of any causes you're passionate about, lovely readers._
> 
> [Protect Mauna Kea](http://www.kahea.org/): In the 1960s, Hawai'i agreed to share two of its highest and most sacred mountaintops with a small community of astronomers. Today, an expanding industrial footprint of roads, buildings, people, parking, and ever-larger telescopes populate these summits--all while cultural landscape and native habitat are being irreplaceably lost. With your help, a better future is possible.


	2. Immolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _We finally get to meet our new protagonists and have a little bit of Poe towards the end. I had a lot of issues with this first chapter. I wrote and rewrote it three times before scrapping it and starting again. I was also anxious no one would want to read something that’s 90% OC’s, but here it is either way, in all its glory._

Calista

_"Always find the courage to stand, my child," a beautiful smile graced over Lenora's timeless features, her hand reaching down. "For as long as you believe you have the strength to keep going, then you will have the strength to keep going.“_

_Young Calista rubbed at her cheeks, wiping hot tears away as she dusted her trousers and accepted her mother's outstretched hand. The sounds of her brother’s laughter tickling at her ear._

_“Remember Calista, just because you got knocked down, doesn’t mean you belong there.” Lenora helped her daughter to her feet, glancing over at the golden shores of the beach, a content look in her eyes. _

**Karas the Ancient City of Thesmora…**

Ash rained down from the smoke-blackened sky, a shadow cast over the white and gold flag that stood crooked in the courtyard. Dark purple flowers were trampled by lifeless bodies wearing the polished silver and gold armour of the Royal Guard, chestplates and clenched fists covered in specks of uprooted soil and soot. An explosion in the distance heaved sand and dirt and roots out from the ground.

Princess Calista Ordell stared at her mother's funeral pyre, the flames long since dead. The smoke dancing like a sickly phantasm weighed down by gravity. The heavy air was filled by a deep seated melancholy that clung to everything. Today was meant to mark the first day in a hundred days of mourning, but instead it had turned into the first day in a long number of days to be plagued by violence and turmoil.

Calista was numb to the pain. Numb to the distant sounds of explosions and boots crushing over the Ancient City’s stone steps. Thesmora had lost a queen and she had lost a mother and on the eve of Lenora’s burial, the planet had lost what little hope there was for peace.

All it took was one day for the galaxy to change. When the First Order unleashed the might of its arsenal against the Alliance, no one had been prepared for the devastation that followed. Seven planets -spinning, revolving, evolving- there one moment then gone the next. Billions of lives lost, succeeded by a fallout of immeasurable proportions.

Fearing for her people, the Duchess had killed her own sister -the late queen- after she had refused to side with the Order. A few short moments before Maligma's blade had slipped between bone and punctured Lenora's heart, news that the resistance had destroyed Starkiller base echoed through the galaxy. Despite their victory, the Resistance had been too late to stop the panic and fear from spreading across the galaxy.

Faced with execution, Duchess Maligma had made a rallying cry, usurping the throne in a military coup. Soon traitors became patriots, brother took up arms against brother and now Thesmora was under the iron fist rule of a power-hungry tyrant. Once martial law was declared, what started as a monarchy in transition for Calista’s rule, was now a military state ripped apart by infighting and bloodshed.

"Princess," the faint sounds of a trusted voice forced its way into the crevices of Calista’s foggy mind, shaking her from her stupor. "Princess, it isn't safe. We must get you to safety!"

Calista looked up, dazed and confused, eyes red from the salt in her tears. Her protector and long-time friend, Koa Kiddé, grabbed onto her shoulder and shook her fiercely. The wind blew her long silken hair furiously, the sunburst orange ends flickering like an open flame around her face. A look of determination turning her beautiful features stone cold. Her honey-coloured eyes drawing narrower with every wasted second.

"Now, princess!" Koa yanked her to her up.

Calista looked down at her feet planted atop the flower bed and remembered a phrase her mother would always mutter in trying times, "Find the courage to stand."

Koa held out her hand, the other armed with a viro-blade, urging Calista to take it.

Hand in hand the girls ran out of the courtyard and away from the only home they knew. Soldier's clad in black armour filing into the once lush and colourful space, covering it like ants on an anthill. Calista’s crown sinking further into the dirt as synchronised marching lifted the weak soil off the ground.

To win this war they would have to lose this battle.

Calista’s feet began to blister, her breathing ragged and shallow.

"If we hurry we should be able to catch a shuttle heading to Yotai, from there it will be easy to find ourselves a pilot willing to smuggle us out of the Outer Rim," Koa strategized.

"We won't get far dressed like this," Calista pointed at her ceremonial robes and Koa's Royal Guard attire. "And we'll need credits."

Koa hummed in agreement.

"We have no choice," Calista sighed. "We head for the race tracks and speak with Banden Murray."

"I would rather die than watch you sully your reputation by getting into business with that thug," Koa spit in distaste.

Calista looked around the housing complexes in search of clothes or material left out to dry. She spotted a purple poncho with a hood and pulled it over her clothes, obstructing the royal seal embroidered onto her breastplate.

"That may very well come to pass sooner than you think," Calista warned. "Our allies are scarce, Mokk-Toh has vanished and there are whisper's that Maligma is in talks with the First Order. My options are limited. Murray is the only option."

Koa clicked her tongue in distaste, "the thought of being bantha fodder is more comforting, but you are right. Without resources, we'd be shooting in the dark."

"Then we're in agreement," Calista nodded before heading away from the transport station and towards the race tracks.

**~The Shallow Pits…**

The sound of pod-racers whooshed past, dust picking up and filling the air with the scent of grease, smog and engine fuel. The harmonising soundwaves of pods whirring in stasis trembled out through the orange and red rock depressions. The stands which were always filled with up-roaring fans were all but deserted. Posters and flyers advertising for a big race blowing about like unattended children.

Calista kept her head low as she manoeuvred through the sparse crowd of derelicts, gamblers, mercenaries and smugglers that frequented the race tracks. A few strange faces would occasionally do a double-take once they noticed her fine shoes didn't match her worn poncho, luckily Koa's frightening glare and imposing demeanour would scare any potential whistleblowers away.

"Hey, hey, hey, only Thessi with invitations are allowed beyond this point," a mercenary held up his hand, guarding the back entrance to the observation decks. He was an inch away from touching Calista's shoulder.

Koa unsheathed her sword with lightning quick reflexes, the heat from the plasma charge bathing the mercenary’s neck in a yellow glow, "Lay a hand on her and you lose it." Koa threatened.

"Stand down," Calista calmed her before looking up at the wide-eyed mercenary, sweat trailing down his neck -the viro-blade still painfully close to his artery. Koa's disciplined stance barely allowing for the long sword to sway.

Calista lifted the poncho to reveal the sigil, "I have a feeling your boss will make an exception about the invite rule."

The merc gulped and hit the wall panel with his elbow. The door opened with a hiss and a gust of air. "Go on ahead."

Koa sheathed her blade, yellow glow subsiding from the mercenary’s pale neck before following after Calista.

"A visitor to see you, boss," one of Murray's assistants introduced Calista. "And her bodyguard." Koa walked in right after.

Banden Murray was a tall, muscly man with thick hair the colour of tar. His skin paled in comparison to all his compatriots, making him stick out like a sore thumb in this part of town, but he didn't mind that. Murray was more outsider than native, but he had declared Thesmora his home after retiring from whatever occupation he had before.

He was widely respected by the public for being the head of the mining union with connections to various peoples of power. What few beyond the Senate Seat knew was that he was also an information broker with a vast network of spies who had dealings with both the Resistance and the First Order. Many believed he had amassed this network after the first rebellion ended, though none knew for sure which side he had been pledged to at the time, or if the story held any merit considering no one knew his age. If the lines on his face were any indication, he was probably past his prime years.

"Ah, I never thought I'd see the day when royalty would walk into my establishment of their own volition," Murray smirked as he leaned further into his chair, a multi-coloured poncho draped over his heavily tattooed arm. The only legible tattoo was of a name scribed over his chest: _Ashani._ "Please, sit."

Calista accepted his show of hospitality, Koa, however, made it a point to stand in defiance. Murray cocked his head at Koa before bringing his sights back on Calista.

"So, princess," sarcasm dripped from his tone. "How may I be of service?"

Koa's hand balled in a fist.

Calista brushed his brazen attitude aside, "I need a favour."

"Do go on," he encouraged with a wave of his hand.

"We have a contact waiting for us at Yotai who will get us out of the Outer Rim. All we need is safe transport off-world."

Murray chuckled under his breath, "Your contact wouldn't happen to be Senator Kiddé by any chance?"

Calista's eye's flickered to Koa's instinctively, her guardian, in turn, clenched her jaw with a bitter expression.

Murray had gotten his answer.

"I suspected as much," Murray snapped his fingers, ushering one of his drones with a heavily tattooed face to bring a box into the room. "He was taken captive by the Thessi Garrison a few days ago. We were able to… _re-appropriate_ several of the personal belongings he had on him."

"Need anythin' else boss?" She asked, eyeing the two outsiders.

Banden shook his head, the rings on his fingers knocking against each other when he weaved them together, elbows propped up on the table. "I'm told he and several other outspoken supporters of yours are being transported to Illis –to the _Cairn_\- on a shuttle tonight."

Koa's hands began to shake and Calista caught on cue, asking Murray the question that was undoubtedly plaguing her friend's mind, "Any news on his wife, the Baroness?"

"We've heard chatter underground that she fled to the safety of Naboo not too long ago," Banden replied.

Koa's shoulders relaxed slightly upon hearing the news.

"With the senator no longer at our disposal, we may have a harder time getting off-world," Calista said gravely.

Banden let out a low rumble, "Then I suppose its fate that you came to my door." He stood from his chair and walked around his desk, his tall frame leaning against the desk with folded arms. "I know a good pilot. Trustworthy. Man of his word. He can get you where you need to go, for a fee of course."

Calista sized him up, "I suppose you have conditions of your own for helping us?"

"I do indeed," Banden pulled out a lighter and burnt the ends of his pipe, filling the light deprived room with puffs of white smoke. "Wars are a tricky business. Lucrative, but tricky. I believe you'd be worth the gamble though. I can help you, be your eyes and ears on the ground. Pass information to and from. I could be your inside man, help topple this totalitarian regime your devious aunt has erected." A wicked leer pulled at his thin lips.

Calista's fingers began to drum against the chair's armrest, one of her nervous ticks.

"What's the trade?" Koa said bluntly, her voice sharp as glass.

Banden blinked as though he hadn't the slightest clue as to what she was inferring.

"Men like you, you covet one thing: power. How does helping us get you what you want?" Koa took a step forward, challenging as was her nature.

"It's simple. If you manage to overthrow this current uprising and restore balance, I want a seat on the senate… and the deeds to the prison," his steely blue eyes fell back onto the princess.

Calista's gaze snapped to his, their eyes clashing like mud and crystal. "That is no small ask."

"Neither is helping two wanted fugitives escape from the clutches of a power-mad warmonger," Banden's voice was no longer gentle, his lungs sucking in air through his lit pipe. The scent of burning sticking to everything.

"How do we know you aren't in Maligma's back pocket?" Koa asked through a narrow glance.

"I am," Banden admitted freely. "I'm in everyone’s back pockets. The resistance, the order, the cartels… everyone. I even did the odd job for the late queen now and again."

"Lies!" Koa barked, jaw muscles working hard.

"It makes sense," Calista said regrettably. "A man of your connections is an invaluable asset." She stood from the chair, determination pulling her brows together. "I cannot promise you the rights to the prison, Murray. Nor am I inclined to believe you won't just betray us once we get on a ship… but, I can assure you, that once I take my throne back, all of Thesmora will know of your role and perhaps that would be evidence enough for the senators to allow you to slink your way into a seat of power." Even though her words were low and controlled, it wasn't enough to fully flatter the mobster.

"If you succeed, we'll bring this discussion up again at your coronation." Banden held out his hand.

Calista knew she was making a deal with the devil, but she had few good choices left. She accepted Banden's hand tentatively, a new alliance forming under the roof of a desolate betting establishment.

"We'll be needing disguises," Calista informed him.

Banden whistled, ushering a skittish droid into the room. "Cory will handle any of your needs."

"And the pilot?" Calista asked.

Banden chuckled again, "He's down by the docking ramps off-loading cargo. I'll let him know you're on the way and I'll handle any remunerations he may require..." Calista motioned to leave when Banden informed her, "For now at least. There are no free favours in this world. I will come knocking if you live through this." 

"You'll get what you're owed," Calista's voice was smeared with venom, no longer playing the composed little princess.

“Trust me, I know.” Banden returned to his seat, boots resting on his desk. “Oh and princess, if you run into Felix, tell him his loan is overdue.”

The mention of Felix’s name caused Calista’s breath to hitch, the first sign of her level of distress.

Calista changed into the bright orange mechanic overalls Cory had given her while Koa riffled through the crate with her father's belongings.

"You know," Calista pulled the cloth that separated them. "I think I'd make a good mechanic." Calista tried to smile in the hopes it would ease Koa from her worries.

Koa looked up at her, fishing out a small blaster rifle and holster and tossed it to her, "A gift from our gracious _business partner_.” She was dressed in tattered clothes. Tears and holes peppering the purple cloak that obscured her viro-blade's sheath behind her back. Black boots scarred by scuff marks.

Calista buckled the worn holster around her thigh and waist, "You don't approve."

It wasn't a question, Koa hadn't tried to hide her feelings about this plan from the start.

"That's why you're the diplomat and I'm the shield," Koa said flatly, her fingers running over the knot-work ridges of an eye-catching necklace.

"It's beautiful," Calista moved closer, tying up her long hair into a professional bun that hid her auburn tinted ends.

Koa held up the chain to the light, the octagonal metal charm scattering the beams of light into an artificial rainbow. "I've never seen it before. I don’t think it belonged to my father." Koa tossed it back into the crate, her hands gripping the edges until her knuckles turned pale.

"Hey," Calista placed her hand over Koa's, urging her to let go. "Maligma won't hurt him, he's too valuable as a prisoner. We'll save him. I promise."

Koa ground her teeth together, before lifting up the box to carry, "Let's focus on getting you somewhere safe."

Calista glanced at their distorted reflection on a polished surface. With their hair concealed and their normal clothes cast aside, they shared a remarkable resemblance. Inattentive eyes would easily mistake them for cousins, even perhaps sisters. Despite their similar bone structure and eye slant, Koa was the more beguiling of the two, with her enviable height and toned build.

Koa pulled an old cap off a hook and fixed it over Calista's head, the brim shielding her eyes from view, "Now you look like a crew member on a pirate ship." 

The ship hanger housed three star-ships. One was an old Mon Calamari cruiser that looked to be a former warship, probably salvaged by Murray and his thieves after the war. The other was a beaten up rust bucket with only one working engine, parts pulled from it for salvage and left to gather on the floor like a machines graveyard. The final ship was also a relic of the past, but the colourful paint job slapped on made it look a little newer, a little shinier. Bold letters ran across its side spelling out the word _Somnambulist_.

As Calista and Koa got closer, they heard the odd ramblings of an unfamiliar dialect. A stout, burly man with an extended belly, greasy hair and an unkempt beard was shouting up at someone working a plasma torch. Calista guessed by the grease-stained medals pinned to the man's small jacket that he was most probably their pilot, Odhen Boro.

Murray told them Odhen used to be one of the best pilots on their side of the quadrant, a veteran in the Resistance too, but he had quit right around the time the First Order popped up.

"Don't give me excuses, one-eyed wonder, you said you'd have the tailpipe fixed hours ago!" Odhen shouted up at a small creature standing on a ladder that had been wheeled under an engine thruster, his miniature frame dressed in a brown get-up.

"Is that a Jawa?" Koa leaned close to ask.

Calista hummed in thought, "I've never seen one, but the fiery attitude and loud shouting would seem to back up that assumption."

The Jawa moved his arms frantically about, his voice small and high pitched. It would have been adorable if not for the flesh searing torch he wielded recklessly.

"Yeah, yeah, don't give me that crap. Just get the damn thing fixed," Odhen ran a hand through his beard, curly follicles falling away at the contact. He stared down at the shed hair strands and groaned in disgust. "Great… next thing I'll start going bald."

The Jawa shouted something else and this time Odhen's nostrils flared, "Yeah, well you aren’t gettin’ any younger either, pip-squeak!"

"Odhen Boro I presume?" Calista startled the two hot-tempered males.

Odhen scratched at his beard as he tried to place the strange women standing before him. The Jawa sighed and threw a bolt at him, shouting again in quick, unintelligible words.

The pilot grumbled something under his breath before wiping the engine fluid from his fingers onto his less than white shirt, "My mechanic over here tells me you're our haul. The princess and her bodyguard, right?"

Koa kept her eyes fixed on the Jawa, the initial wonder from seeing a new species still working its way through her mind.

"That's Ton-Ton, my mechanic who's livin' up to his title less and less with more time wasted. His chatterin’ droid is around here somewhere -lookout for anythin' that rolls," Odhen's voice was nonchalant as he made his way to the entrance. "I'm guessin' the princess has never seen a Jawa before?" he asked as he started lugging crates to and fro.

"Uhh," Calista glanced in Odhen's direction, realising he had mistaken Koa for her. "Actually, no. Koa has never seen a Jawa before. Neither have I. I didn't think they ventured out so far from their homeworld."

"Usually not," Odhen grunted as he lifted another crate. "Ton-Ton has a penchant for gettin' into trouble. You all set?"

Koa walked past them, setting the crate down in the cargo hold.

"I should think so," Calista told him.

"You hear that Ton-Ton?" Odhen shouted out into the hanger. "We're all waitin' on you!"

The Jawa replied in his native tongue and Odhen tugged on his sleeveless jacket in frustration, "What do you mean I can't afford a real mechanic? You're supposed to be a real mechanic!"

"Is this thing safe to fly?" Koa asked, staring up at the ceiling and the leaking pipes.

"This beauty hasn't killed me yet," Odhen said passively.

Koa and Calista shared a troubled glance. Their looks were deterred by the rumbling of unfastened items placed recklessly about the cargo hold. For a moment, everyone stood still, watching, waiting. Then the walls of the ship began to shake and the Jawa cried out as the ladder started to roll, his plasma torch falling to the ground and igniting a tarp on fire.

"What was that?" Koa asked, hands held out to steady herself.

Calista kept looking around as the shaking intensified, "They feel like micro-quakes."

"Seismic charges!" Odhen's eyes grew wide as shouted after the Jawa, "Ton-Ton get your scrawny little ass in here, we're about to have some very angry guests!"

The Jawa scurried on stunted legs dragging a red trolley filled with tools along with him, the flaming tarp left to itself. Ton-Ton shouted after Odhen just as the hanger bay’s ceiling caved in and a troop of Elites rappelled down, firing off rounds from their hand cannons. Their black armour forming one uniform black line in the distance.

"Forget about it, as long as we can take off without blowin' up, it's not important!" Odhen waved the Jawa into the ship as he pressed the button for the cargo bay doors to close. A plasma round scorching a heated circular hole into the wall next to the pilot. "Hurry up, spanner head!"

The Jawa waddled faster, managing to get on board at the last second, his red trolley banging against a set of crates.

"Can one of you fly?" Odhen asked.

"I trained for three years but only with smaller fighters," Calista said.

"That don' matter, a seat is a seat," Odhen jogged heavily to the cockpit. "Come on."

Just as Calista made her way to follow, she noticed the Jawa pulling Koa below deck. A sign pointing down to the gun turrets was placed right above the maintenance hatch that Ton-Ton pried open with a wrench.

Odhen didn't bother strapping himself in as he flipped switches and spun the Somnambulist to the side so the turrets would face the advancing militia.

"Sit down, strap in and do as I tell you, kid."

Calista slid into the seat, buckling the seat belt. The ship groaned and shook as several blasts bombarded the outside walls.

"Easy there girl," Odhen smoothed the flat surface of the dashboard with his free hand while the other pushed the navigation stick to the side. He snapped on his headgear and tuned the station until the static turned into rapid-fired words coming out in Jawaese. "Stop cloggin' up the channels, Ton-Ton! I hear ya! It's not like I'm tryin' to get shot at on purpose!"

Odhen pressed the ignition button and the whole ship thrummed with new life. A spray of blaster fire hit at the windshield, "Hey shorty, try shootin' at somethin' will ya? I can't be the only one doin' the heavy liftin'." He barked into his headset, snapping his fingers at Calista. "Hey kid, turn us starboard to 45 degrees and then push down that switch so our flaps descend."

Calista followed his instructions, breathing deeply through her nostrils so she wouldn't lose her composure. The sound of the ships cannon's firing off was loud enough to send trembles through to her spine. She felt like she was inside the belly of a giant turbine.

Even though the advancing soldiers were out of view, the sound of explosions signalled that several of the Elite's forces had just been taken off the board. Calista squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, refusing to allow herself to feel any pity or remorse.

"Nice going buddy," Odhen cheered in the headset through shaky laughs. He tried the button for the hanger bay doors but it was unresponsive. Swearing under his breath, Odhen chimed into his headset. "Ton-Ton, I need you to blow up the hanger doors. The receiver isn't transmittin’."

More Jawaese filled the radio and Odhen simply pulled his headset over his ear. Noticing Calista's hand was shaking over the nav-stick he tapped her arm with two fingers. "Hey, kid," he snapped his fingers at her and she pried her eyes open. "I need you to stay focused. You're my co-pilot now. Can you handle that?"

Shaking the thoughts from her head, Calista nodded tightly, screwing her lips into a stern straight line, eyes focused on getting them out of the hanger and towards the horizon peaking over the blown open doors.

The Somnambulist took a hell of a beating as its parking legs folded into the base of the ship, its weight no longer grounded. The force of the attacking Elite's made the ship shake, the old bolts and screws groaning out.

Odhen punched the nav-stick as far down as it would go and the ship burst from the hanger at impressive speeds.

"I need you to keep a steady grip otherwise the torque will pull us into a tail-end spin," he informed Calista.

The ship tilted to the side, threatening to spin out just as he had warned, causing an animatronic scream to burst through the ship. The sound of tires rolling uncontrollably prompted Calista to peek at what was going on.

In the back, a legless droid seated atop another red trolley, rolled from an open compartment and into the stacks of boxes in the cargo hold.

"Woah!" The droid shouted as a crashing noise erupted.

Odhen clicked his tongue, "Damn droid..." He pulled his headset back over his ear. "Hey shorty, you forgot to secure your damn droid!"

In frustration, Calista peeled her headset off, trying to remain concentrated with flying instead.

Odhen raised a brow her way and she simply shrugged.

"He talks a lot."

"I hadn't noticed." Odhen laughed. "Alright kid, I'll take over from here. Hold on, I'm punching us into hyperdrive. Got any requests?"

"Anywhere as long as it's not here," she offered, palms running across her face as she let out a huff.

The stars raced across the screen like a thousand shooting stars raining around the ship. The Somnambulist had stopped groaning from all the offensive fire and was now groaning from the intense speeds it was flying at. The sounds were similar but also different, less nerve-wracking.

Calista sighed as she stood from the co-pilot seat, staring longingly at the dashboard. There had been a time when the prospect of flying a ship as large as this one would have brought her joy, but right now her heart was too heavy to allow anything other than despair in.

"You aren't such a bad shot," Koa's voice praised out to the waddling Jawa. Ton-Ton said something in his native tongue in response. Koa hummed flatly before answering: "I'll pretend I understood what you said."

"He said he thought you weren't so bad yourself," the animatronic voice spoke out. "I hope I'm not being too imposing but… would one of you help me up? I'd do it myself but I have no legs."

Koa looked to the droid in the cargo hold and walked towards him, disappearing from Calista's view. Following suit, Ton-Ton hobbled over, his arms waving about.

Odhen sighed before pulling off the headset and standing from the seat with much effort, his belly brushing against the dashboard.

"Let's go see what that’s about."

"I am immensely grateful... Miss?" The droid asked Koa as she pulled him into his trolley. The Jawa pulled out some tape from his long cloak and tried to affix the droids severed torso onto the trolley more securely.

"Knight-Captain Koa'lianu Kiddé." she greeted overly formally. “Koa for short.”

“Knight-Captain?” Odhen mouthed to himself.

"A pleasure to meet you. I am Protocol Droid M8-T7 but my master calls me _Watts _and so does the Captain," Watts saluted at Odhen. "I must extend my deepest apologies to you both," Watts continued.

Koa squinted her eyes in confusion, "Why?"

"When my mobility device rolled away, I accidentally crashed into your box of personal belongings. I landed on this data chip storage device and crushed its outer casing," Watts held out the necklace from before. "I hope the casing wasn't sentimental to you."

"Data chip?" Koa asked, glancing at Calista with a bemused appearance.

Ton-Ton snatched the necklace from his droids hands before Calista had the chance. His small hands bringing the shiny metal object up to his singular eye, his voice muttering something in thought as he snapped the rest of the casing off.

"Hey, hey," Odhen pointed disapprovingly. “We talked about this. Don't go stealin' shiny things. That's the reason you ended up on my ship remember? Give it back to the princess…“ Odhen pointed at Koa who in turn looked at him with a furrowed brow, “So you can get to work on the lower hull, we may have a leak to fix remember?"

"A leak?" Calista asked frantically.

"Don't worry, the most damage it could do is--" Odhen was halted from his speech when the ship suddenly fell out of hyperdrive, the momentum of the sudden stop forcing everyone to jolt forward and brace onto something for support. "Drop us out of hyperspace. Damn." He finished with a glum expression and a snap of his fingers.

Ton-Ton rambled something, his tone indicating he wasn't about to do as Odhen asked.

Watts, seeing that Koa and Calista were unfamiliar with the ships dynamic, started translating, "Ah, it seems Master Ton-Ton believes I may have damaged the data chip, but he thinks he may be able to salvage whatever was on it if you give him permission."

"Well, Princess?" Koa cocked her head to the side, eyes skittering between at the hyper-active Jawa and Calista. "The choice is yours."

"Princess?" Odhen sounded shocked. "Did you know she wasn’t the princess this whole time?" He asked Ton-Ton pointing at Koa again.

Ton-Ton replied with a dismissive wave as he started tinkering with the data chip.

Odhen gaped at his small friend, "And you didn't say anythin'?"

Calista knelt next to the Jawa, looking him in his one good eye and nodding hesitantly, "If this data chip was with your father, stands to reason there's something important on it. Play the message."

Ton-Ton pried a panel on the back of Watts's head, moving some wiring around before slotting the data chip into the droid's head.

A hologram of a miniaturised dancing Twi’lek appeared a few feet away, her body translucent and blue. The Jawa knocked Watts on the head with a spanner before shouting at him disapprovingly.

"Oops, terribly sorry, wrong recording," the droid apologised.

This time a new hologram filled the room. It was life-sized, blue and equally translucent yet somehow more alive than the one before.

Calista let out a chocked gasp as her eyes fell on the recorded version of her mother. She was just as beautiful as she remembered and even more regal in her favourite blue gown. Her long hair falling to her elbows, a blue pin the shape of a bird clipping two braids together.

Odhen whistled in the air, his eyes widening as he shifted to get a better look at her face. Koa walked over to place an encouraging hand on Calista’s shoulder.

_"My daughter,"_ _the hologram began._ _"If you are watching this, then it is too late for me. I failed to see my plans come to fruition. Thesmora has always been peaceful, even during times of war and we have taken pride in that. But, I fear we may no longer be allowed to remain a neutral planet in this ever growing conflict. In truth, I do not believe we should. I watched, helplessly, during the first war that ravaged this galaxy. I had the power to shift the balance and I chose not to do so. Yes, I had a responsibility to my people to keep them safe from the ravages of war, and I did that, but as a result, an entire planet was destroyed and we allowed a force of evil to continue its reign of terror on others. _

_Now that evil has returned, different and yet the same. My spies tell me the First Order is building a weapon of mass destruction, much like the one the Empire used to destroy Alderaan. I cannot in good conscience allow this evil to grow, I cannot stand back and use the safety of my people as an excuse again. We must declare allegiance. Maligma disagrees, I've never seen her so frightened before. I fear she may do something rash in her blind ambition to keep Thesmora out of this war."_

_Lenora's chin touched her collarbone as she took a strong and purposeful breath before looking up with steeled conviction and continuing on: "I have entrusted this data chip to Senator Kiddé, he is one of the few I trust unequivocally. The other is with Mokk-Toh. I sent him in my stead to be my voice and negotiate our terms with the Resistance. There is no one else I would trust to carry my words more." _

_A smile appeared on Lenora's face, "The data chips work as a set. Put them together and they reveal the location of several bomber star-ships intended for General Leia, as a show of good faith. Get this data chip to Mokk-Toh, the two act as beacons once separated. Follow the signal to his location… In case I'm not around to tell you this, know that I love you, always."_

The hologram stopped and Calista stared into her mother’s face for what felt like an eternity, the silence disturbed by Odhen's dry coughing. Koa side-eyed him as he beat his chest, trying to clear his airways.

"Stop the recording," Calista's voice was feather-light.

Watts's mechanical eye stopped projecting the recording. The blue glow dissipating from the walls of the ship.

"Can you trace the location of the other beacon?" Calista asked the Jawa.

Ton-Ton nodded before going to work behind Watts. A spark and fizzle popping out before a new projection painted the room blue again.

Koa walked closer to the map to get a better look at the location of the beacon. Her finger hooked in a circle around her chin as she examined the map further. "I'm not familiar with these co-ordinates but this section of the map looks familiar."

Odhen grumbled when he looked at the map, "I don't know why it would. That's Takodana, a pirate haven. One of the few places free from the Resistance and First Order's squabblin'. It's not governed by the Cartels neither."

"Set a course, Captain," Calista said confidently, no longer kneeling on one knee.

"It'll take us some time since we can't initiate the hyperdrive without blowin’ ourselves up," Odhen rubbed the skin on his neck. "You may want to grab some shut-eye on the way, I'll go make sure we don't fly into any debris. Space is littered with broken chunks since they fired that Star-Killer... Ton-Ton come on. I don't pay you second mate rates for nothin'."

Ton-Ton spoke in his usual hurried tones.

"What do you mean I don't pay you?" Odhen banged on the roof of the cargo hold with a closed fist. "You got shelter over your head don't ya?" Odhen rolled his eyes and headed off. "Pssh, _I don't pay you_. Maybe I would if you didn't have a stomach the size of a bantha, ever think of that?" He grumbled to himself.

Ton-Ton fixed up Watts' exposed control panel, handed the necklace back to Calista and placed a long piece of piping in the droid's hands before going off to join Odhen in the cockpit.

"Master Ton-Ton says I am to show you two to the crew’s quarters," Watts pushed his trolled using the pipe as a rowing stick. "This way, follow me please."

Poe

**The Resistance Base on D'Qar...**

Poe was on the ground, his back pressed to a maintenance trolley, a torch held between his teeth as he worked on the modifications for Black One.

BB-8 beeped and chimed in happy tones as he rolled about next to the X-Wing.

Poe pulled the torch from his mouth and said, "Hey BB-8 can you pass me the '44?"

BB-8 rolled over to the toolbox, clamping arm reaching out from its hidden compartment to grab the spanner but failing to get a grip. The droid beeped worriedly before a set of boots walked up to the toolbox and picked up the spanner instead.

"Here you go, Black Leader," Paige Tico's distinctive vibrato filled the empty hangar bay.

"Thanks," Poe smiled under the X-Wing, his hand reaching out to grab it. "When did you get back?"

Paige tapped her boots on the floor, "A while, I've been spending time with Rose. She worries."

Poe fixed the nut tighter and then dropped the spanner next to the toolbox, "Gimmie a hand?"

Paige wheeled the trolley out from under the jet, tossing him the rag that was on the stool.

"Thanks," Poe nodded, wiping the grease from his hands and under his fingernails.

"Missed a spot," Paige wiggled her eyebrows at the oil stain on his overalls.

Poe dabbed at the dark stains and sighed when he realised they were already dry, "Perfect." He drolled sarcastically.

Paige laughed.

"Don't laugh," despite his serious tone, a smile of its own was spreading across the Commander's face. "This is my second pair this month. The Resistance doesn't have the budget for it." He joked.

Paige rolled her eyes, "Sure, they can afford fancy X-Wing's but not a washing machine."

Poe huffed, dropping the rag in his toolbox, "You here for a reason Tico or just to eye my baby?" Poe patted his jet affectionately making BB-8 chirp and beep, "Don't worry buddy, I can have two favourites."

"Ah, the delusions of men," Paige hummed with a smug look on her face. "And no, you caught me on one of the rare occasions that I'm not trying to pester you into letting me take Black-One for a test run." Paige pointed her thumb in the direction of the exit. "The General sent me, she wants to see you in the CC."

Poe frowned, "You couldn't have gotten to that tidbit a little faster?"

Paige shrugged as she watched him and BB-8 race down the hanger, "Eh, it's more fun watching you sweat for it!" She shouted after them.

When she was alone, Paige allowed her eyes to look over the black X-Wing with a hungry expression. A whistle of appreciation leaving her cheeks as her hands glided over the cold metal. She whispered hopefully, stars in her eyes, "One of these days, baby."

Poe slowed his pace to a slow jog when he neared the command centre. An overlapping noise of voices and machinery and buttons being pressed bombarded his ears. It was starkly different from the isolation of the hangar bay. Poe was beginning to miss his time working on his star-fighter already. He was also a little disappointed he hadn't had the time to get cleaned up before seeing Leia.

"You wanted to see me, General?" Poe announced himself into the room.

Leia turned and smiled at him, her fingers beckoning him closer, "About time Commander."

The hologram of Maz Kanata died out just as he stepped into the room.

"An old friend tells me that some new allies may require our assistance," Leia informed him. "I need you to gather a handful of your best men and head for Takodana." Leia's brow crinkled as though she had forgotten something important. "Oh, and take one of the ships we salvaged after the incident with Hosnian Prime. Don't want to arouse any unwanted suspicion."

Poe pressed his palms to the table, leaning in closer, "Mind if I ask who exactly these new allies are?"

"Maz didn't say, but something tells me they'll be revealed to you when the time is right."

"Do they know we're coming?"

"That is also yet to be determined."

Poe had to restrain himself from sighing, his head drooping down as he tried to keep his wits about him, dark curls cascading around his face and skirting across the sensitive skin right above his brow.

Lieutenant Connix walked in with a datapad in hand, "Mission reports, General."

"Have faith, Poe. Things unravel the way they're meant to." Leia glanced over her datapad, streams of information scrolling past her eyes as she brought her knuckles to bear the weight of her chin while she assimilated the new information.

Poe nodded, lifting his weight off the table as he made for the door.

Leia's eye twitched when she read a section of the report.

"Commander," she called after him.

Poe swivelled in a fluid motion, eyes wide in question.

"Take Ensign Tico with you. Something tells me she could use a change of scenery." Leia smiled again, "And don't dally."

"By your orders General," Poe excused himself from the room and headed for the living quarters to fetch his men and clean the grease off his fingernails.

_To be continued…_


	3. Scramble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Okay, I know that the film timelines between **TFA** and **TLJ** is highly compressed (like somewhere between a matter of days to weeks) but I'm going to stretch that premise a little bit because of so many plot holes that would be easier to address if they allowed all the character arcs to breathe over a few months. I want to explore the fall out of the destruction of the New Republic and how the Resistance will try to acquire allies, troops and firepower, so the time frame will take place over a few months. I'm also taking privileges with space travel because being able to zoom to places can sometimes force the plot to hurry along too fast (like Rey and Luke's training)._

Maligma

**Karas, Thesmora...**

Red on black. The taste of charred timber burning on the underside of her mouth. That was all that bled through as Maligma's polished boots traipsed over the razed courtyard. The once splendid land had been terraformed into a landscape worthy of a sonnet of death. All the bodies had been moved, leaving behind mounds of ash and the smell of fumes from the clouds of smoke that diffused upwards into the sky, polluting it, darkening it as far as the eye could see.

The Duchess nursed a look of stoic resignation, taking in the destruction she had caused through umber coloured eyes. Her feet crunching into the ground as though it were snow at her feet and not the remnants of a once lush and green landscape.

_Ping!_

Unexpectedly, her boot was obstructed by something hard. Reaching down she noticed the familiar silver and gold weaving of the delicate crown. She’d recognise it anywhere. It belonged to Calista.

Like a grieving widow, Maligma reminisced about the day she had helped her niece pick out that exact crown. Lenora had been away from the capital on that particular day and was unable to share in the experience of choosing ones first crown with her daughter. It had been a kind memory. One she had once thought would turn sweeter with the turning of time. Now it was but a reminder of what she lost… what she had destroyed.

A bitter aftertaste soured her mouth as she realised her sister would never again share any more experiences with her daughter. For once, Maligma was grateful she was without children of her own.

Heaving a weary sigh, she dusted off the blood muddied dirt from the crown, digging out the soot embedded in between the small cracks with her long fingernails. She knew Calista was out there, somewhere amongst the stars, hiding in the endless darkness of space.

"Where are you, little one?" Maligma sought to the sky for answers, her pupils expanding to take in more light. From here Thesmora’s two moons were still visible, even at noon. The shattered rock of the third moon resembling a dandelion gradually blowing away, scattering further and further in the wind.

She hovered close to the burnt-out funeral pyre, placing the crown to rest with the remaining bones of the late queen. Her fist closed around a mound of ash. "It didn't have to be this way..."

Wind blew the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes away in a level stream, a salty droplet falling into her ear, the liquid matter eliciting a shiver from her stiff body.

"Duchess?" the encroaching voice of Hazo O'raka disturbed her from her solidarity –depriving her a moment of reticent bereavement.

Maligma steeled her nerves before addressing him with the new authority afforded to her, "Commander."

Despite his youth and unhinging beauty, Hazo was the embodiment of discipline; a perpetually straightened posture, an unwavering blank expression and hardened eyes the colour of swamp water branded him as one of the planet’s most revered warriors. His demeanour and gait resembled that of Mokk-Toh's, a comparison that always reminded Maligma to stay vigilant while in his presence.

The Commander handed over a datapad displaying images of the Somnambulist –the ship Calista had escaped on– taken from the space station on Yotai. Her eye twitched ever so slightly when she read the report.

"We don't know where they're going?" Maligma asked, displeased by what she read.

Hazo shook his head, "We were unable to plant a transponder on their ship and it seems our scanners stopped picking up their signal once they jumped to hyperspeed. They have successfully managed to elude us." He sounded almost impressed.

"Careful, Commander," Maligma eyed him. "A tone like that and I might be inclined to assume you're actually relieved they got away."

No muscle or line on his face moved. He was an impregnable statue. His most inner thoughts would forever remain elusive, even from the most trained eye. "You need not worry, Duchess. My loyalties lie with Thesmora. Who sits on its throne is arbitrary so long as they have the people’s best interest."

Maligma's lips curled upwards, "Always the loyal soldier… Mokk-Toh trained you well. Though, I do wonder if he trained you a little _too_ well."

He said nothing, too smart for Maligma's probing it would seem.

She eyed him through the corner of her eye while she absentmindedly scrolled through pages upon pages of data, "And what of the bounty hunter?"

He shook his head once more, it was the most distinguishable form of emotive language she had witnessed from him thus far. "He went radio silent. We believe he's somewhere in the Western Reaches, but have been unable to locate his ship. Should I send a tight-beam to our spies within that sector to keep an eye out for the Admiral in case the bounty hunter was unsuccessful in his mission?"

"_Former_ admiral," Maligma corrected with a dark ring to her voice. She let out a huff in thought. "And no. Versengen is tenacious and vindictive, being a ghost is in his nature. If there's anyone I would bet on to see this bounty through, it would be him."

She handed the datapad back to Hazo, feet kicking up dirt as she made her way from the courtyard. Her blood-red coat-tails dragging behind her.

"There is another thing," He informed her as she strode back to the palace. After she didn't reciprocate with any words, Hazo went forward and explained: "The Somnambulist was first spotted leaving the Shallow Pits."

Maligma sucked the air in through her gap teeth in annoyance, she knew instantly what that meant. "Murray, that two-faced bastard." Her words, though insulting, held a form of esteem.

"My soldiers believe that is where the princess and Koa initially secured passage off-world. We took him in for questioning earlier. He is currently under lock and key at the barracks."

She noticed a slight shift in Hazo's tone at the mention of Koa, and even though she was intrigued by his slip up, it didn’t warrant any further investigating given the circumstances. However, she did make a mental note to remember it for later.

"Good work Commander… Keep this up and you'll be on the fast track to admiral soon," she doused her words in honey, Hazo, on the other hand, remained unfazed.

"Promotions are of no consequence to me. Once we've secured Thesmora's safety, then we will let the people decide whom they wish to lead the Royal Guard... If there will be one left after your undertaking." Hazo bowed before taking a diverging path to the barracks, hand on his swords hilt the entire time.

She kept her eyes trained on him until his outline dissipated into nothing more than a shadow. "You trained him well..." Her words were lost in the wind, meant for ears that could not hear her.

The cell door opened with a hiss as cold air washed over Maligma's body. Hot and cold clashed from the still radiating heat of the sun on her skin.

Banden was draped over the clinically white bunk placed in the corner of the equally clinically white room. He had on a bored expression as he twisted his wrists against the arm restraints in an effort to pass the time. When his eyes lifted to meet Maligma's a look of familiarity shone through them. The green of his eyes turning brighter from the imposing light once he shifted out from under the shade of the bunks canopy.

"Maligma, what a present surprise," his suave attitude rolling out in waves. "Gotta admit, I thought about how things would play out when you came traipsing back into my life…" He scoured the room and then looked to Maligma's furious glare, holding it until she made a move before he glanced back at his restraints. "And I have to admit, you got most of the details right. Except for the location."

She scoffed in disgust, "Keep your lascivious thoughts to yourself, Murray. No one wants to hear them."

"You used to sing a different tune once," Ever the audacious mobster, Banden smirked his famous bone-chilling smirk as if he were talking to one of his mercenary thugs.

Maligma's cheeks hollowed inwards as she stared him down with a scornful look, but there was a hidden lick of heat traded between them, it filled the air with tension, whether sexual or antagonistic was anyone’s guess.

"You know you committed treason by aiding my darling niece's escape?"

Banden shrugged like an aloof idiot, "All you Thessi look alike to an outsider like me. I couldn't tell you for certain if I aided the princess’s escape or not. I handle a lot of business deals at any time of day, it would be all too easy for anyone to fall through the cracks."

Maligma scoffed, flipping her rust coloured hair to the side. "Even a fugitive?"

"You forget my line of work."

She glowered, voice turning sharp, "I could have you executed for less."

Banden's smirk grew wider, "Yes, you could, but we both know you won't. Not if you want things to keep running smoothly. Imagine if all the mines dried up, who would feed all those soldiers keeping the people in order?"

Maligma's eyes narrowed at him, "You dare threaten me?"

"Threaten the _Master of Spies_? I'd be a fool..." He was leering at her now, his entire body bustling with exultant energy from the thrill of trading verbal blows.

She folded her arms, her eyes looking out through the open door, head bobbing to the side to call someone forth.

Hazo appeared from a blind spot with the keys to Banden's shackles. Begrudgingly, he kneeled close to free the mobster's hands with a snarl curling at his nostrils.

Banden searched Hazo's face, his smug disposition fading away instantly like he’d seen a phantom. Maligma careened her head at his unexpected reaction.

When they were alone again, Maligma patronized, "Acquaintance?"

Banden rubbed the skin on his wrists as he looked up, his brows drawn together like heavy drapes. "Only by reputation," he said through a set jaw.

“Since when were you one to care for reputation?” Maligma's eyebrow arched before setting her eyes on his tattoo written across his chest.

He stood from the bunk, stalking close to her until he towered over her, voice threatening, “I don’t.”

Poe

**D'Qar...**

Poe had managed to get cleaned up, packed up and saddled up in record time. He had traded in his pilot jumpsuit and mechanic overalls for his trusty brown jacket, a tan shirt and a pair of red utility pants –holstering his blaster rifle to his thigh. After grabbing a pair of dog tags that hung off the side of his mirror, he picked up his duffle bag and turned off the lights to his sleeping quarters –giving it one last look before heading for the ship parked outside the base.

BB-8 rolled over to Poe’s side, concerned beeps sounding out as he bumped into his leg to get his attention. Poe crouched down, hand on the little droids round surface. "Sorry pal, not this time." The droid rolled to the side and back, bumping into his leg harder.

Poe couldn't help but laugh at his droids enthusiasm, "I need you to stay here, look after Finn for me while I'm away. Keep the General safe." He patted the round ball. BB-8 whistled and chimed but its tone was more downcast, almost disheartened. "I'll be back in no time," Poe reassured the droid, watching him roll away with a proud smile.

The hot-shot pilot got off his knee and walked out of the shade. Heat permeated off the dry, cracked ground in a mesmer. Burned by the brightness, he cupped his hand over his forehead in an effort to shield his eyes from the sun. Rays of light hitting his parent’s dog tags at a sharp angle, reflecting outward.

A woman standing in front of the banged-up star-ship blinked furiously as he walked closer. "By the stars, Poe, you trying to blind a girl?" Paige protested as she blocked the refracted rays with her arm.

Poe slipped his tags under his shirt's collar and patted Paige firmly on the shoulder, "Now _that _would be a disaster. It's a bit last minute for me to find a replacement co-pilot."

"Co-pilot?” Her bug eyes sparkled with excitement as she punched his chest playful, “You aren't messing with me?"

Poe handed his duffle to one of the men loading up the ship, "You gotta start somewhere right? Can't just jump straight into an X-Wing without chipping a little paint." His knuckles knocked on the ship's side and ironically, peeling sheets of paint fell off.

Paige giggled with excitement as she looked up at the old piece of junk. Regarding it with newfound enthusiasm as if it had turned into a fancy race pod, "Rose is gonna flip when she hears about this."

"Easy there, hotshot," Poe huffed to keep from laughing. "You have to get us to Takodana in one piece first."

"Done and done!" She said confidently. The smile on her face was full of promise.

Poe admired her spirit. She reminded him of how he used to be in his younger days, before all the politics and red tape caught up to him. Sometimes he wished he could simply be a pilot and only a pilot. Take to the stars. Feel the rush of soaring against the winds. Feel the pull of gravity growing and growing until it was cast aside all together whenever he broke through a planet’s atmosphere. He wanted to return to a time when he'd proudly, and solely, declare that flying was all he knew. But the resistance had many pilots, what they didn’t have in abundance were new heroes. And as Leia had told him: _‘As fighters, we have all to accept that people will always expect more of us if we keep rising to the occasion. You have to learn to rise up to the pedestal all these men and women have put you on. We all had to go through the growing pains of transitioning from rebel to hero.’_

Silly him, he had kept rising to the occasion, no matter how perilous or impossible a situation got. Which also meant, he was no longer just a pilot, but a hero that others looked to for guidance. And the Force help him, he had no intentions of ever becoming an authority figure in this war.

"Come on," Poe started towards the ship's doors. "Let's get this bird up and running."

Paige jogged after him, her entire aura buzzing with excitement.

"So what's our mission?" Paige asked, already strapped into the co-pilot seat, headset fixed over her grey woolly hat. The blacks of her eyes reflecting back all the lights of the dials on the dash.

Poe rubbed at his chin, the prickly feeling of newly forming scruff scraping against his calloused fingertips, "No clue."

Paige looked at him in surprise, "So we're heading to Takodana with no intel? Talk about flying blind."

"Our orders are to reach Takodana and get in contact with Maz, the rest is all a coin’s toss."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, if the General chose you to oversee this mission it must be important," she reassured him with a big smile. "She's General _Leia_ for crying out loud. There must be a good reason for our mission even if _we_ can't see it yet."

Poe took Paige's words to heart, feeling slightly more at ease.

"We're all fuelled up and ready, Commander," one of his flight crew informed him.

"Ground control, we clear for take-off?" He spoke into his headset.

Through the windshield, a member of the landing party flagged him on with their glowing orange wands, "That's a copy. It’s all clear skies and open runway. You've got the green light."

"Mission Control, we've got green light. Fuelled up and ready for take-off," Poe spoke into the headset at a different frequency.

"That's a copy Black Leader. Mission Control requests a call sign for the log before you take off," Lieutenant Connix's voice spoke out through the headset.

He turned to Paige whose bewildered expression informed him she was still taking everything in, "Well, _Number Two_? How about it?"

Paige looked like she were about to suffer a stroke, her hand blocking off the mouthpiece so she could whisper to him conspiratorially, "You want _me_ to name the ship?"

Poe chuckled with a friendly nod. She shook the startled look from her face, her hand closing around her pendant. Then, all of a sudden, that look of confidence returned and she punched in the new name into the transponder.

"That's a copy, Rose One. You are clear for take-off," Connix relayed as she spoke out the ships new name for the first time. "May the force be with you."

“And with you, Mission Control,” Poe turned to Paige. "Alright, Ensign Tico, take us away!"

Paige hit the thrusters, retracted the landing legs and turning the ship stern-side until they faced open land. With a deep breath and a kiss to her pendant, Paige set their course for Takodana. Poe helped her climb through the atmosphere like it was a piece of cake with his excellent piloting skills.

"Whoo-Hoo!" Paige cheered as the Rose One broke through several clouds and glided out of the ozone layer.

Odhen

**Port Hanoi, 200 Million KM from Hoth...**

Odhen sat at a booth in the back of the cantina next to a viewport just wide enough to see the tiny white planet of Hoth. His haul: the princess of Thesmora and her trusty, yet frighteningly serious bodyguard, were over by the bar, blending in with the riffraff as best they could.

Ton-Ton had remained on the Somnambulist to oversee its repairs. Docking at the port had been a last-minute decision after Odhen convinced the two Thessi women that a ship with a working hyperdrive was more valuable than a ship without a working hyperdrive.

He sipped from his cup, his attention drawn to the commotion at the bar where Koa held a man face down against the counter with a clenched jaw. Calista tapped on her arm, and like a reflex, Koa instantly relaxed her grip. A duplicitous look of calm taking over her as the thug fanned his jacket and made his way to the exit.

Odhen had never seen two people so attuned to the other. As far as he'd observed, they rarely needed words to convey a thought. They worked like a pendulum. When one swung over to the edge the other would veer them back on course.

"Stirrin’ up trouble your first day here," he chugged the rest of his drink when the women returned to the booth, an impressed shrug pulling at his shoulders. "You blend right in. Ever thought of changin’ professions?" He joked.

Koa didn't find his jab amusing, deciding instead to fix her eyes on the pins stuck to his jacket. "Were you some sort of hero?"

Odhen shifted in his seat, "Is there any such thing these days?"

“Did you steal them then? Some twisted form of souvenir?”She arched a brow at him and he simply looked out the window, ignoring her questioning. "A deserter then?"

That got his attention.

The tired pilot chewed at the skin in his mouth. "That don’t say much, aren't you both deserters?"

"Perhaps, logically. But such things don’t matter if you still have your honour." She squared her jaw, nails tapping languidly on the table. “Or is that a foreign concept to you as well?”

He knew something about him rubbed Koa the wrong way, he figured it was her disdain for anyone who lived outside the comforts of lawful structures or orderly hierarchies. She struck him as someone who took her ideologies too seriously. From the prickly way she regarded everyone in this establishment, he could tell she was having a hard time reconciling the fact that she was now just like everyone else in this cantina: an outsider. A fugitive.

No matter her disposition, Odhen wasn't planning on pulling any punches. It wasn’t his style. "Honour’s just a fancy word for havin’ a code. And a code is just a set of rules we make to ensure we don't cross those lines we’re uncomfortable with. It’s a barrier we put up to try and distinguish between what goes for civilised and what goes for savage. It’s a delusional safety net, nothin’ more."

“Is that why you live like this? Taking odd jobs for scraps? Because you’re above it all. Above the need to distinguish between the two?”

Odhen pointed his finger to the table, tapping between each sentence to emphasise his point, “Your commission wasn’ for scraps. The two of you were quite the lucrative deal, in fact. And in my line of work, it is all about the credits. So stop tryin’ to analyse me as though there’s more to my story than what you see. If you can promise that, I’ll promise not to raise your expectations of me.”

Koa’s mouth opened, a rumble in her throat signifying she was about to rebuke his words when Calista interjected.

"I've always wanted to travel to Hoth," She said softly, shifting their attention to the small round dot in the distance. "It doesn't snow on Thesmora. Not unless you live among the mountain tribes –but even then it's not the same. In the Academy during our history lessons, I'd spend hours staring at Hoth's planetary hologram, imagining what it would feel like to be knee-deep in snow. Toes going numb and skin turning blue.” A smile danced over her face at the memory, the tension that had begun to climb between Odhen and Koa diffusing away. “To see nothing but pure white stretching on and on forever. This is the closest I've ever come to seeing it with my own eyes. It may be the closest I’ll ever get to it."

Odhen watched Calista's face change from impassive to cheerful and back again –a glimmer of passion slipping between the cracks every now and then. He saw that the same fire that Koa wore proudly, like a suit of armour, Calista kept hidden, like a concealed weapon. In some small way, she reminded him of his late wife. They both held a stubborn vibrancy, kept hidden behind soft smiles and poised etiquette.

"Who knows, maybe you'll get to do more than just see it one day," Odhen muttered as he stared at the white orb in the distance. Calista hummed into her drink while Koa looked out at the white orb.

He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of his holo-terminal beeping around his wrist. He connected the call once he read the transmission signature. A second later, a miniature hologram of Ton-Ton stood on top of a ring of moisture left behind by his cup. The Jawa was shouting and waving his arms as usual, but his tone was slightly more alarmed.

Odhen frowned, repeating what he heard with a hint of disbelief to his pitch, "_They grounded our ship?_ Why?"

The Jawa explained how one of the smugglers who transported refugees off Thesmora recognised their ship and informed the security personnel expecting a reward. Watts had intercepted a tight-beam transmission sent to the base on Yotai. It became instantly apparent that they didn't have long before a group of Elites would mobilise to their position.

Odhen swore under his breath, ending the transmission with a heavy finger, the two women catching none of what Ton-Ton had just said. "You may need to secure another ride. The Somnambulist just got tagged," he swallowed the remainder of his drink and with a loud clink of his glass, he walked away.

"You can't just leave us high and dry after you promised to get us to Takodana," Koa marched after him with a stern scowl on her face and just as stern of a tone. Calista hung back, the pendulum deprived its opposing force.

Odhen sped up his strides, but the young Thessi woman had no problems keeping up with him, her legs almost as long as his. "First of all, I didn't promise anythin’. We made a transaction, I took a job and now that jobs screwed. End of story."

She clicked her tongue, "Of course someone like you only cares about looking out for themselves."

He rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, "Listen, kid, I'm a smuggler, I take cargo no one wants to be caught dead with and deliver it to where it's supposed to go. I get paid and then I move on. Sometimes things don’t go as planned. Sometimes the cargo gets compromised, sometimes I have to stash it, other times I have to space it. _This time_ I'm giving it a heads up before cuttin’ it loose! Caring has nothing to do with it."

"Congratulations," she clapped sarcastically. "You just lived up my expectations." Koa marched off, going to stand beside Ton-Ton who was currently lost in a heated argument with the port authorities.

When Odhen thought he had the room to breathe, Calista finally walked up behind him, but she stayed silent. Simply using her presence to strong-arm a response out of him.

He pinched his nose with an airy snort filling the awkward silence, "Look, I can ask around the port, see if I can find someone I know. Maybe they can get yo--"

"Time isn't on my side and what little time I do have is too precious to waste on the possibility of finding an alternative,” she stated frankly. "I'll double the pay."

He ran a hand over his beard roughly, feeling slightly insulted, "This ain’t a matter of credits."

"From everything you said to Koa in the cantina, your own words would seem to indicate it has everything to do with credits. Unless you don’t believe any of what you said before."

“Look, I have nothin’_, nothin’_, to prove to you or your friend over there.”

“I never thought you did,” her tone was cold, detached.

Odhen was seeing a different side to her, a darker side –an entitled side. She didn't look at him while she spoke, instead, she kept her chin high and her face unreadable. She spoke at him rather than to him. She made him feel as though he were no different than a low-life willing to do anything for a scrap of credits.

_Isn't that what you want everyone to believe?_ He laughed ironically. _Isn't that what you've become?_

“Double?” He asked looking for confirmation.

“Double.” She nodded.

"I'll speak to Ton-Ton, see what we can do," he grumbled as he walked away from her, away from the sickening feeling of being regarded as the very thing he had told them he was.

"She's willin’ to double the pay," Odhen whispered to his number two while they conversed in a dark section of the hangar bay.

Ton-Ton spoke energetically, his feet bobbing at the prospect of an even larger payday.

"I agree, that's a lot of credits, but that doesn't mean it'll be easy."

The Jawa kicked Odhen's ankle in annoyance as he muttered something else.

"By the stars!" Odhen rubbed at his leg. "Fine, but we'll need a distraction so the port authorities don't send security after us while we disembark. Someone will also need to override the clamp controls in the station's main offices."

Ton-Ton's arms came together and then rapidly flew apart in a circular pattern as he sounded out an imitation of an explosion.

Odhen’s eyes went wide, "You want to set off an explosion in the port? Are you insane? You could rip a hole through the entire station and kill everyone, us included!" He whisper-shouted as he nervously rubbed at his neck. "Always the pyromaniac. Are you forgettin’ what happened the last time you dabbled in controlled explosives? I was deaf in one ear for a week!"

Ton-Ton brushed Odhen's annoyed complaints away with a whack of his wrench, clipping the large pilot in his shin this time.

"Oof! You measly dwarf, I oughta..." he swore under his breath, side-stepping away from the violent prone Jawa with a height complex.

Ton-Ton explained his reasoning’s for being eager to help the two stranded Thessi women and Odhen huffed, a tweak working at his cheek jowls.

"You like the mean one, eh?" his gaze fell on the two women standing by the Somnambulist. He clicked his tongue as he took a deep breath. "Well, I guess we're turnin’ out to be a pair of suckers after all… Grab your mouthy droid and get to work."

Ton-Ton waddled back to his droid while Odhen strutted towards Calista and Koa, hands picking at his scruffy beard, more silvering hairs falling out. "Once an old fool..."

Calista

Calista propped her elbow over her forearm, fingers drumming on her lips as she studied the body language of their pilot and his second mate arguing in a dark corner.

Koa twirled a sharp implement between agile fingers, her line of sight drawn up towards the sparks hailing from a construction site overhead. "Do you think they'll reconsider?"

"They're desperate, and so are we. Whether we want to admit it or not, we need each other," she hypothesized.

"What did you say to him? He was pretty adamant about not wanting to help us earlier," Koa shifted her eyes to look at something else.

"I said what I had to," Calista ran her tongue over her teeth in distaste of her previous actions. She didn’t like manipulating others, but Odhen wore his wounds more openly than he thought. Everything had become clear once he snapped at Koa’s questioning his honour.

From what she had deduced of Odhen’s character during their short time together, she could tell his weakness was somehow linked to all those neglected medals pinned to that ridiculously small jacket he never took off. Something from his past haunted him, so much so that he had to constantly keep on the run from whatever it was that he didn’t want to face. From his past.

Koa narrowed her eyes at her friend's nonchalant countenance, "I know it's been a trying time, but are you certain you're alright?" she motioned to place a comforting hand on Calista's shoulder but the princess narrowly avoided the contact by shifting her weight onto her other foot.

"I'm fine. Let's just focus on getting to Takodana."

Ton-Ton and Odhen made their way back to the Somnambulist at a slower pace than Calista would have liked, her legs and arms were on fire with riled up energy that needed an outlet.

"Well?" she asked the pilot while the Jawa waddled towards his droid, placing several pieces of junk equipment into the trolley before he wheeled Watts towards the scaffolding that held up the construction equipment a few yards away.

"That little daredevil over there seems to think your cause is worth aidin’, which doesn' mean much considerin’ he has the worst self-preservation instincts in all the galaxy," Odhen glanced at his second mate getting into an argument with a construction worker allowing Watts to discretely stash something under a support beam. "You know he set himself on fire one time just so he could--" 

"Odhen..." Calista brought him back on topic.

He fisted his hand and brought it to his mouth so he could clear his throat before continuing, "Right, we can help, but we'll need more than two hands if we expect to get off this station without being shot to stardust."

Koa expertly threw the sharp implement at an unsuspecting stranger’s crate, the sharp end lodging itself at the centre of a letter printed on its side. Her swift action had gone unnoticed as she straightened off the part of the ship she had been leaning against.

"What do you need?" she asked, hands itching for some action.

He kicked at the air with his weathered boots, hands on his hips as he rehashed the plan, "We'll need someone to get to the control deck and hijack the controls that are keepin’ the ship docked. You can also access the defence turrets from there too. Giving them a hard reboot will take them offline long enough for us to make our getaway. Ton-Ton will set off a distraction that will draw the security personnel away from their patrol stations allowin’ you two to access the service elevator." He pointed to a guarded elevator that led up to a glass structure in the distance.

Calista frowned, "How do we get back onto the ship once we're up in the control room."

"There's an aerial access panel responsible for sending long-distance tight-beam transmissions, it's accessible through a maintenance hatch. The station is one of the largest in this sector, the dome-like structure will allow 'ol girl over here to fit her fat ass up there with enough wiggle room for you to climb aboard before we leave."

Koa judged the distance between the antenna’s platform and the open space wide enough for the ship to fit through, "That's no small jump..."

"We'll make it," Calista said confidently as she held out her blaster towards Koa, who in turn, tilted her head to the side. "No blades, we just need to scare them."

Odhen unholstered his much larger rifle, "Here, somethin’ tells me you'll feel better handling this." he offered his weapon to Koa and she accepted it with a whistle of approval.

Calista tucked her blaster back in her holster and gave him a nod of gratitude.

Koa checked the weapons specs with a smile. "This bad boy can do some damage," she complimented. "It's still got nothing on trusty _Mohara_ though."

"Mohara?" Odhen cocked his head.

"Her sword," Calista informed him.

"Oh," was all he said.

Hunkered under the darkness of a shadow cast off a larger star-ship, Calista and Koa stayed vigilant, waiting for Ton-Ton to set off the signal so the guards blocking their pathway would move. The silence was so all-consuming that she could hear the grinding of her ribs when her chest rose and fell with each controlled breath. It was akin to the sound of sugar being ground in a mortar and pestle. Jarring and very distracting. She kept the time by counting her heartbeat, she was somewhere close to 300 now.

Koa had pulled up the sagging layer of material of her cloak’s collar up over the sharp point of her nose so it clung to her cheeks and hid everything but her eyes. In the dark, they seemed to glow the same vibrant shade as her blade.

What first appeared as a trick of the light, grew into a bright orange flame and then finally a magnificent show of pyrotechnic colour splashes culminating in an explosion that toppled half a section of the scaffolding absent of workers.

Calista's mouth was pried open by the wondrous beauty of the hazardous flames and all they’re eye-catching flamboyance. Koa smirked as she tapped on her shoulder. "That's our signal."

Ton-Ton had outdone himself. Though something told Calista that this wouldn't be last show of needless extravagance she'd witness at his hands. The guards scurried towards the demolition site, as did several workers and crew docked nearby. Eyes wide and voices filled with panic birthed a pandemonium rife with discord and panic.

"So it is," Calista replied as they snuck passed the unguarded post and high-jacked the express elevator with the scrambler -another one of Ton-Ton’s inventions.

"Don't ever tell him I said this, but that odd little Jawa is a genius," Koa admitted as the elevator doors hissed open.

"And rambunctious, don't forget that."

The second time the elevator doors hissed open, Calista and Koa burst out with their weapons drawn at the engineers and technicians working in the control room.

"Don't move!" Koa shouted as she held the hefty rifle in a menacing manner with both hands.

Frightened faces filled the cramped space maintained by a skeleton crew. Calista quickly made her way to the docking clamp operator and pressed the barrel of her blaster onto the spaces between his spinal discs. "I need you to unlock all the docking clamps in the east bay."

The operator held up his hands, trembles travelling from his skittish body through to her blaster, "I- It's against policy." He stammered.

Koa pulled her trigger, a tiny, spark-filled explosion devoured the soundboard. The operator jumped in his seat.

"How about now?" Calista asked.

He flipped several switches and turned several more dials as he pleaded, "O-okay, just… please, don't hurt us."

The mechanical whirr of clamps unhooking and retracting throughout the eastern bay made the entire station sound like an ancient behemoth moving rusting joints for the first time.

Plasma rounds hailed around Koa originating from an adjacent hallway, she fired her rifle at a door panel to seal it shut and hinder their attacker's advances.

The commotion had startled Calista, drawing her attention away from a comms worker who tried to knock the blaster from her hand. Luckily, her training kicked in as soon as she felt foreign hands grip at her wrists. She flicked them upwards and elbowed the comms worker so hard his head knocked into an electrical panel rendering him unconscious. She exhaled and then turned back to the bulging eyes staring at her, "Where are the controls for the exterior defence turrets?"

Her audience all pointed towards a scrawny looking woman manning a large station. "How do I reboot the cannon's targeting system?" she asked her, gun pointing down.

The technician slunk into her neck, both hands raised in the air, "I- I don't know. We've never needed to reboot them before." Her voice trembled.

"Move," Calista tossed her head to the side and the technician pushed her chair away from the control panel, gliding without resistance on the scratched up floor. She aimed her blaster at the panel and fired at it several times until all the lights turned off and the wiring sparked.

The technician took a shaky breath, closing her eyes in relief that it wasn't her that was sporting blaster holes. All of a sudden, the previously sealed door was blown open and Koa was kicked back by the force into a terminal. Her body pressing down on several buttons causing unplanned chaos to ensue in the docking bay as mechanical arms, shutters and levers started malfunctioning. A rain of bright plasma shots filled the room with a red glow and everyone hunkered down for cover.

Calista spotted the maintenance hatch and shouted over her shoulder, "Koa, I've found the hatch."

"Can you get to it?" her companion shouted back between a spray of plasma rounds.

Her nails dug into her palm as she looked between her corner of cover and the very exposed hatch, "I can try!"

"Go! I'll lay down suppressing fire!"

"I won't leave without you!" She said stubbornly.

"You won't be, I'll be right behind you. And look, there's our ride, right on queue!"

Calista turned to look at the brightly coloured ship manoeuvring its way around tight spots in order to get to the aerial maintenance tower. Its bulky sides scraping against metal structures.

She cursed before bracing herself as she made a run for the hatch while Koa let out another spray of plasma rounds. The hatch refused to budge at first, its hinges unlubricated and stiff, then, without warning, it popped open with a terrifying screech. Calista climbed down the ladder shoot and balanced her footing on the very narrow walkway. The Somnambulist spinning round and blowing wind as the cargo bay door opened with a hydraulic whir.

Ton-Ton waved her over, his body anchored to the ship using a cable tie while Watts -sporting some singes and new scrapes- was kept in place by a giant magnet pinning him to a wall. Calista gulped as she jumped the distance and landed with her hands bracing at a depression in the floors panelling. Ton-Ton placed his tiny hands around her arm and heaved until she was safely aboard.

She stared at the walkway with bated breath, waiting for Koa to follow suit. Ton-Ton yanked at her sleeve as he made a motion to pull her further inside.

"Wait," she barked out, chin starting to subtly quiver.

Security personnel started firing on the Somnambulist causing it to sway in the open trying to dodge the attacks.

"This bird's got a fat ass, I can't shake em all. We need to get gone and soon!" Odhen's words rippled out over Ton-Ton's headset. The Jawa spoke a reply of his own as he increased his efforts to drag Calista backwards.

"One more minute!" She begged, eyes rapidly scanning the space for any sign of Koa.

Another explosion broke through the glass of the control room, black smoke curdling outwards. Some seconds later, Koa jumped onto the walkway and discarded the large rifle over the side. She steadied herself before breaking out into a balanced sprint.

Just as Koa made her jump, a rocket hit into the side of the ship causing it to move slightly further. In a panic and fuelled by a rush of adrenaline, Calista grabbed onto the meshed tarp that held the ship’s cargo down and leaned over the edge, arm extended to catch her. Koa's fingers grabbed down on her arm, the weight of her swinging body causing something to pop in Calista’s elbow as she helped her up.

Ton-Ton shouted into his headpiece as he made for the cockpit, the cargo bay doors closing shut, sealing them off from the dizzying cacophony playing outside the walls of the ship.

Calista sighed as she rolled onto her back, her arms splayed out limply. She smiled, feeling like she could breathe again.

"Gahh," Koa groaned, a scorch mark burned into the side of her trousers. "Let's never do that again."

Suddenly both of them were laughing, the ship becoming a womb of safety as they caught their breaths and allowed themselves a respite from all the stresses they had faced.

**Takodana…**

Lush, bright, mossy greens rolled out forever. A panorama of flora and fauna growing wild and free, a green sea untouched by the poisons of war and strife. The smell of earth and pine and _clean_ made its way into her lungs, clearing her mind and body, separating Calista from her worries. It reminded her of home. Of before.

"Welcome to Takodana," Odhen said, thumb hooked on his belt loop. A sense of discomfort resonating through him as he looked to the large structure suffering from recent damage. Flags of all colours blowing in the wind, contrasting with the green of the land. "I kept my end of the bargain… I expect you'll do the same."

Ton-Ton struggled to wheel Watts through the muddy terrain. Odhen, noticing this, pulled the lever away from the Jawa and into his own hands, his gait less confident than usual. “Oh, and uh… I expect to be reimbursed for that blaster you never returned.” He spoke over his shoulder.

The Jawa hitched a ride by sitting in the trolley while Odhen pulled it with him towards the structure. Faint music travelling with the winds.

Calista took a moment to just stand there and take everything in. To revel in the silence and lack of smoke or fire or ash.

"Bargain?" Koa asked.

"I promised him double."

"Can we afford it?"

"No," Calista's jaw muscle twitched. "But there's always Felix."

Koa took a limping step forward, eyes cast down, stray hairs running with the changing directions of the winds. "Do you think he knows?"

Calista sighed, palm pressed to her mouth as her eyes jumped from leaf to branch to tree and back again. Finally, after a stagnant pause, she spoke, "Lenora is his mother too… _Was_ his mother. No matter how much he claimed to despise her, she was family. We still are."

Her answer wasn't a definitive yes or no, if anything it sounded more like an _'I hope so'_ than a _'maybe'_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Global Deal for Nature](https://welovetheearth.org/act-now/)  
People around the world are calling on government leaders to support a Global Deal for Nature that protects and restores 50% of the Earth’s lands and oceans. Scientists say this bold target is needed to save nature, prevent runaway climate change, feed the world, and ensure a healthy planet for future generations.


	4. Deliverance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Unique Vocabulary:**
>
>> _Ko_: akin to one's life-force or spirit.  
_Ko-Katrah_: a variation of the ideology behind the Force -the energy that surrounds all life-forces.

  


Mokk-Toh

His ankles burned beneath the bandages, the salve was doing its work. But just because his body was healing, didn't mean his mind was. Unconscious and broken, that had been his state when the band of smugglers had found him with water in his lungs. He would have died too if one of their crew hadn't been drawn to the flames that ruptured out of a storm drain. In a way, Versengen was to blame for his survival. The universe did have a cruel sense of irony.

The smugglers had tried to set the broken bones in splinters and relocate his shoulder as best they could, but they weren't medics and Mokk-Toh's wounds were severe. From the height he jumped, the shallow water might as well have been solid ground. Now one of his ankles would never heal right, the bone permanently fixed at a crooked angle, robbing him of the balance he once had. But that wasn't the only part of him to suffer from disruption. His soul ached.

His injuries had left him with a fever, and when they brought him to Takodana, they were certain he wouldn't make it. They were right, he wouldn't have, if not for Maz. That ancient being knew quite the many odd trick or two when it came to healing, Mokk-Toh gathered it was because her _Ko_ was more attuned to the _Ko-Katrah _than most.

Even though Maz's actions had been a mercy, they felt like a curse. Because now he was awake, faced with the harsh reality that not only had he narrowly failed at his mission, he had definitively failed his queen. Worse yet, he had no one to answer to. He had no queen. Not anymore.

When he had found out about her demise, he had felt the life-force drain from his veins. His heart grew too heavy to carry and his crooked legs couldn't hold him upright. Defeated, he had resigned himself to die of shame. To die in the silence of a hidden cave.

Mokk-Toh rarely dreamed, and if he did he would always forget. But now? Now his dreams had manifested as nightmares. In the dream state, those phantoms were tangible. In them he'd see Lenora, her face shifting with the years from young to old to dead. Sometimes he'd see Calista, the young princess he had watched over since birth. She too would shift from wide-eyed adventurous girl, to rebellious teen and then into a lifeless corpse.

The disturbance from his nightmares bled into his wakeful state, he was plagued by their pained whisperings. They’d taunt him as they came to life beyond the confines of his mind. And yet, every time he reached out to touch them, they would disappear and he’d be struck by the stark realisation that they were never there to begin with. Guilt goaded him for surviving those flames, it felt wrong to be present when _she_ wasn’t. A visage deformed his reflection every time he bent over his washbasin. Half his face would be mangled and scarred by fire. 

He had become his own torturer, and Mokk-Toh had lost the will to try and survive these emotional beatings.

There was no point.

His homeworld was in chaos. A tyrant sat on the throne. And the family he swore to protect with his last dying breath, had taken theirs. And where was he? Halfway across the galaxy, on a mission that mattered not anymore.

He stared into the metal surface of his admiral's badge, pressure increasing around his fingers so the spikey edges would cut into skin. A stream of blood flowed down to his elbow, dropping onto the floor like a leaky faucet. Maz had come to check on him again. She was disheartened to know he had receded further into himself –further into his despair.

When things got bad, Lenora's ghost would project herself beside him, like some sick joke. She would sound real and look real and every time she would talk him off the ledge. It was a nauseating dance. One he wished would come to an end soon.

The days and nights blended together, he couldn't tell if he'd been in that cave for weeks or barely longer than two days. He had detached himself from the world, leaving only his husk behind to walk and eat and rest like some undead abomination.

As darkness descended upon his space, so did his phantoms -as was the new ritual of his life now. They felt so real that day that he could've sworn he felt their presence shift the air around him, turning it alive and electric. This time, it was Calista's face he saw. The same age she had been when he last saw her, but she looked different. There was a deep sadness in her eyes despite the relieved smile that tried to uplift her aura. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. She looked haunted. Just like him.

As she got closer, her steps slow and almost freighted, the air grew thinner as if she was stealing his oxygen. And then she crouched down, her eyes looking up at him while he sat in a meditative pose, the badge still stuck inside his blood crusted grip like a rusty bolt. She placed her hand over his and he could _feel_ it.

_He could feel her._

"Mokk-Toh?" she asked, voice quavering and soft.

And then he took a breath. His first real breath since he was rescued. His _Ko_ had been revived, shocked to life by a simple, feather-light touch. Unintentionally, she had illuminated his dark cave with something he didn't think he had anymore.

_Hope._

**To be continued...**


	5. Convergence

Poe

**Hyperspace...**

Poe took his holo-call in the privacy of a storage room. General Leia’s face was a portrait in blue as she filled him in on what new intel she had gathered.

“Maz got in touch again. Your contact has arrived on Takodana. She’s a member of House Ordell. And seeing as there are only three members of that house remaining, I’m assuming it’s the young princess, Calista.” Leia’s face lit up in a half-smile as she remembered something. “I met her once. When she was just a child. She was so shy, unlike her mother and father. Always clinging to the coattails of the admiral like he was some boulder keeping her from being swept away.” She lifted her head, eyes set back on Poe.

Poe shook his head when he realised she was waiting for some form of confirmation that he knew about what she was speaking of. The name didn’t ring any bells.

Leia explained further, “They’re royalty. They govern over a small planet situated close to the Outer Rim. Thesmora.” She said the planets name as though it would mean something to him, but Poe simply ran a hand through his hair and shrugged with indifference. The General huffed at him.

“It’s a big galaxy,” he defended himself.

“Indeed it is,” she replied matter-of-factly. “It used to be a beacon of neutrality within the galaxy. However, Thesmora has fallen to infighting. Not much noise has been made about it considering how much confusion and fear the galaxy is in after the First Order fired their superweapon. Their skirmish has gone relatively unnoticed.”

“Maybe the people simply wanted to govern themselves?”

“No, I knew the late queen. We didn’t agree on much and she was as stubborn as a mule, but her subjects adored her. More importantly, she would have proven to be a great ally…” Something bothered Leia, the lines on her face becoming more prominent as she furrowed her brow in thought. “It’s curious. News of her death came to me around the same time I received correspondence from her. It can’t be a coincidence. “

Poe lingered for a while, feet kicking the air.

“Speak your mind Commander,” Leia urged, having noticed his reaction.

“Are you sure this was all worth it?” He slumped onto a box, a sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t doubt your reasons for sending me on this mission. I just can’t help but wonder if I was the right choice. I’m trying to see things your way, but I’m flying blind here. And that’s the worst feeling for a pilot to have. Especially the pilot you chose to lead this expedition.”

“You’re afraid it will all turn out to be a waste of time,” she said as if she had the power to read his thoughts. “Have faith, Commander. I had sensed something before Maz had contacted me. She felt it too. And now we discover that a potentially powerful ally is in need of assistance… Call it fate or coincidence, matters not. What matters is that the Resistance is hobbling on one leg as it is. If we hope to survive, we have to be willing to take risks. Even if those risks seem to be fools' errands.”

“Those are large hopes to place on a princess of a homeworld that is currently too busy fighting its own war to care about the one being waged against the entire galaxy, General.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“And my orders?” he asked.

“I am transferring a data packet to your terminal. Hand it to the princess. And _only_ the princess. It’s time we took direct action.”

The terminal stopped the projection and Poe was left alone with his thoughts. Then he heard Paige call him over his terminal, “Uh, hotshot, mind coming back down here. I’ve gotta pull us out of hyperspeed and I’m afraid I might rip us to shreds if I accidentally press the wrong button.”

Poe smiled as he left the cold, compressed space of the storage locker and made his way to the cockpit which was filled with the noises of several alarms and flashing lights.

"Easy does it, Tico, don't want to jostle us around on landing," he cautioned as his new second mate retracted the landing gear sloppily. Her arm muscles strained to keep the ship in alignment and he could tell she wasn't ready for this particular task just yet. He flicked a few switches, turned more dials and pressed several buttons. The landing controls had been transferred to him and Paige audibly sighed, wiping the sweat off her brow. A shake settling in her bones more freely now.

"I could’ve handled that," she made light of the situation after Poe had set the ship down in a clearing surrounded by tall, canopied trees.

He chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and pushing his chair backwards, "Sure you could've." It was hard to tell whether he meant to be sarcastic, sincere or teasing, but Paige seemed to take it lightly.

"I just thought you were getting bored since I did all the flying this time," she wore a smug smile.

One of his eyes twitched, "_All_ the flying?"

She playfully punched his sides as they made their way to the rear of the ship, "Is someone's ego hurt?"

“It’ll take more than that, I assure you,” he shot her a warm smile as he pressed the door’s side panel and light flushed through the cooling ship.

Paige took a step back from the encroaching light, face scrunched up in a tight squint. She had yet to habituate herself with the constant changes forced upon the human body during intragalactic travel. Poe recognised that squint, he had worn it many times when he first started flying through hyperspace. It was always accompanied by vertigo, nausea and a flash of white spots that bombarded his vision. During his worse trips, he’d even experience the regular bout of muscle spasms. Years of flying had trained his body to become acclimated to the abrupt changes in environment that came with travelling through hyperspace. It was a discipline that came with the territory. Being a passenger was one thing, piloting under intense conditions and forcing your mind and body to stay lucid and responsive was a whole other ball game. Lucky for Paige, Poe hadn’t noticed any uncontrollable shaking… yet.

“Shut your eyes. Take three deep breaths and focus on your feet while walking. Your inner-ear should balance itself out. If you start to shake, ride it out, it’s worse when you fight it,” he offered his advice while she tentatively took a step forward and regretted it because she hissed away from the light in lightning-quick movements.

“Ughh, why does piloting make you feel worse after?” she groaned as she tried her luck one more time.

Poe chuckled, “It’s a small price to pay for conquering the stars.”

“Commander,” one of his men saluted behind him. It was a young lad with freckles dotted all over his nose and cheeks. His bright-eyed manner adding no hardness to his fresh face. Poe guessed he wasn’t a day older than him when he first started flying for the New Republic.

Poe extended his hand and was met with an enthusiastic handshake, “You’re new. I don’t think I saw you board the ship. What’s your name?”

“Ah, yes. This is my first official mission. I usually work in engineering. It’s an honour, sir,” he rambled, a flush of embarrassment and excitement turning his skin almost the same shade of red as his curls. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier –since you were flying and such. I just… wanted to offer my assistance.” He fumbled with his hands until he decided fisting them into his overalls was the more convenient thing to do.

Paige tittered behind Poe’s shoulder and he had to bite his cheek to keep from doing the same, “I didn’t get your name?”

“It’s Cors, sir. Zeeke Cors.”

Paige’s voice took on a high pitch, “Wait, _the_ Zeeke Cors? I thought you’d be… older.” She sounded impressed.

Poe turned to her, his brows raised by half a millimetre, “Am I missing something.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, sir. Just a fluke that stuck and made me sound like some big wig with big brains and a little too much luck on his side,” he beamed. “Frankly, I’m just a guy who was in the right place at the right time.”

“He’s being modest,” Paige scoffed. “He managed to sneak aboard a First Order ship and sabotage its flight controls preventing it from pursuing a resistance medical vessel back to D’Qar. No one would have known he did it either, if they hadn’t found him passed out in the galley with the capacitor fused into his palm.” She turned to the young man, finger pointing to his arm, and then continued: “Didn’t they have to give you a prosthetic?”

He untucked his left hand from his pocket and rolled up the sleeve, “Nah, just grafts. My injuries were somewhat exaggerated by my crewmates. Makes for a more interesting story. At least, that’s what they tell me.”

_The hero type, eh? _

Zeeke took a step forward, glancing around as though someone might be listening in, “Between us, the ship was empty. The troopers had already disembarked when I snuck in through a maintenance hatch. The pilot and second mate didn’t even notice me because I was in a crawl space the entire time.”

Poe tucked his arms around his chest, “How’d you know about the crawl space? Ever worked on a First Order ship before?”

Zeeke shook his head, “Nope. I just have a knack for fixing things. Besides, most ships are designed the same. My brother works on Canto Bight as a…” he paused for a second and decided to let that detail slide. “Anyway, he showed me some blueprints once. The Hutt’s pay a lotta credits for any info they can get on ship designs. Makes for good saboteuring. That’s what they say, anyway.” He shrugged awkwardly before stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “So, what ‘dya say to having an extra pair of eyes tag along? I make a good spotter.”

From how he held himself, Poe would have figured Zeeke to be a little too nervous to have on a mission, but after hearing the strange twang in his accent and the types of words he used, he wasn’t so sure nervous was an accurate assumption. Wiry was perhaps a better description. He mulled over the short boy’s proposal for a long minute.

Paige was the one to break the silence, “Aww, come on _Commander,_ cut the kid some slack. How many chances do you think he’s had to visit Takodana? Hell, it’s my first time here too. And by that count, it means only one of us knows the lay of the land. An extra man watching our backs doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Twice,” Zeeke added.

“What?” Paige hummed in confusion.

“You said _‘how many chances do you think he’s had to visit Takodana?’_” he held up two fingers in a V. “Twice. Which means you’d have _two_ people who know the lay of the land on your team. I also have a good memory. Remember most things on the fly. Makes me a terrible sabacc player.”

“Because you always lose?” she cocked her head to the side.

“Because I always win. And the house didn’t like that…” his attention drifted momentarily before he shook himself back to the present.

Paige opened her mouth, probably to inquire about his two prior visits or his penchant for sabacc considering he seemed unlike the usual type that would wind up at a pirate haven –not once, but twice– and also partake in high stakes gambling. Poe interjected to wrap thing up. They’d spent long enough just standing there.

“Why not,” Poe agreed. “Tell the others to stay ready in case we need to make a quick and loud exit. Maz will try and keep things civil, but you never know.”

“Great!” Zeeke rolled on the balls of his heels like a kid building up confidence to ask a question. “Do I get a blaster?”

Paige and Poe exchanged a look before they both nodded, but not in a way that said yes. “No,” they said simultaneously before they made their way to Maz’s place beyond the dense tree line, Zeeke ran after them once he relayed Poe’s orders.

“What do you think a princess looks like?” Paige whispered in Poe’s direction as they scoured the riff-raff populating the hot and stuffy make-shift cantina. “I mean, I know the General used to be a princess but then… you know, Alderaan went all kablooey. I’ve seen images of the queen of Naboo before, but if someone dressed like _that_ was in _here_, they’d stick out like a Tusken Raider on Hoth.”

Zeeke chuckled, his voice drawing the attention of several lurkers who had kept their sights trained on them since they arrived. That small action seemed to tell those unfriendly faces that they weren’t intimidated in the least, despite being relatively new faces in this establishment. The staring masses seemed to be satisfied with Zeeke’s show of confidence and they went about their business as usual.

_He sure was good at reading a room_, Poe thought. _That could come in handy._

“I’ve seen a few princesses. Most of them always wear fancy dresses with too much jewellery. The kind of too much that means they aren’t in the least bit worried about losing one of their eight rings. Heck, I once saw a prince wearing so much jewellery I mistook him for a woman,” Zeeke told Paige. She found his slip up amusing. “Don’t laugh, it was an honest mistake. Besides, if you’d seen him, you’d be thrown for a loop too.”

Paige poked his side with a large grin, “What, did the handsome prince fluster you?”

Zeeke scoffed, “No. And he wasn’t handsome.” He stuck out his thumb close to Poe’s chin. “_Poe_ is handsome. He was… beautiful. Hence the reason I mistook him for a princess.” His words came out nonchalantly like he was telling Paige water was wet.

Paige snorted loudly, a laugh braced behind her palm as she tried to hold back her laughing fit.

“Well, I guess all we have to do is look for a beautiful man who wears a lot of jewellery,” Poe teased with a half-smirk.

Zeeke mouthed a ‘Ha-ha’ before he tapped on Poe’s jacket discretely, “Actually, I think I’ve spotted them.” He nudged his nose towards a table in the back placed in a poorly lit area with five people sat around it. At first glance, they would seem to blend right in, but upon a more thorough observation, Poe noticed they were more guarded than most of the people inside this cramped space.

Sat in the farthest right corner of the table was a tall, stout man with a gut protruding over his belt. He wore a small sleeveless jacket that looked ridiculous on his frame. It was probably too small for Poe’s shoulders. Perhaps Paige or Zeeke would have fit into it better. Beside the large man was a Jawa sitting on top of stacked crates. His arms waved around energetically as some of his Jawaese made its way to Poe’s unfamiliar ears.

Listening attentively was a woman in mechanics overalls. Her posture was slumped and her face marred by dark rings under her eyes –a blaster holstered at her thigh. She wasn’t unattractive but sitting beside the much more poised and stiff looking woman dressed in purple, she was easily overlooked. The woman in purple and black was probably the princess. The scary, tall man with his right arm in a sling, casting a deformed shadow over the table, was probably her bodyguard. Though, Poe wondered what good he was to her considering his battered state. As though he had sensed their presence, the man with the dark, storm-filled eyes looked over at Poe, a grim line pressing his lips together until they turned near-white.

Poe shuddered on reflex.

“So, what now?” Paige asked.

Poe’s fingers smoothed over the data disk he had downloaded Leia’s data packet onto. A hesitancy in his actions as he squared his jaw and let out a breathy sigh. “I guess, now we talk to a princess.”

“Boy, tone down that confidence, why don’t you,” Zeeke said sarcastically.

Calista

“Are you certain that was the whole message?” Koa inquired in a hushed voice.

Calista’s fingers dipped and ran over the ridges and snaking twists of her newly braided hair, the umber ends reminding her a little too much of her aunt’s signature colour. With distaste, she tossed the heavy braid behind her, feeling it swing and tickle her lower back. “That was all it said,” she replied finally.

“It makes no sense,” Odhen grumbled, as was his usual manner of speaking, Calista had discovered. “Why send us all the way out here to find your friend if his half of the message simply lead to co-ordinates in the middle of nowhere? There’s no star, no planet, no planetoid… nothing’s in that quadrant. Except black.”

Everyone turned to Mokk-Toh hoping he would provide them with more answers, but he had been silent ever since she had found him in that cave, lost and despondent. Calista feared that he wouldn’t ever truly recover from the news of Lenora’s death and that worried her. She had always suspected they shared a strong bond, maybe even one that proved to be of an intimate nature, but she had never witnessed more than kind words and trusting gazes shared between them while in their presence. And right now, all she had was speculation. That made her feel… conflicted. Calista was good at reading people, but not when it came to her family. And never when it came to Mokk-Toh. He was an impregnable fortress of secrets and silence. A statuesque sentry, ever on watch.

Mokk-Toh ignored their inquiring gazes, he was too preoccupied with staring at a group of strangers who had just walked into the stuffy space. It was for good reason too, because now those three strangers were walking towards them with purpose. Their leader, a man in a dusty brown jacket, caught Calista’s eye. He looked like a man with a mission. She couldn’t help but notice how kind his eyes were, even if his jaw was set tightly and his shoulders were squared in an intimidating manner. 

Calista’s gaze wandered down to the point of contact between Mokk-Toh’s less accurate right hand and his swords frayed hilt. She cleared her throat discretely and he eased up immediately. So did Koa. It seems their pendulum had found a new addition. Now they were a singular organism. A cluster of nerve endings fused together to form a synapse.

The man in the brown jacket kept his hands freely visible at his sides, his blaster clipped firmly in place by his holster. He wanted them to know he wasn’t a threat. Though, Calista also noticed that he was gravitating towards Koa, like she was the authority head at their table. She bit back a humorous smile as he stopped a meter short from Koa’s seat.

“Princess Calista of House Ordell?” he seemed unsure of his own voice, but he still kept his shoulders square.

Odhen hid his snigger behind a loud cough, sending a wink in Ton-Ton’s direction. It went unnoticed. Or so she thought until she saw the young kid with the ringlet curls hold up his finger towards his leader’s back to try and tell him something. The woman with the woolly hat pushed his hand down and muttered something at him with nervous eyes.

Koa cocked her head to the side, staring at the three strangers with an impressive poker face. She stayed quiet, deciding it would be more beneficial to see how things played out. For some reason, he took her silence for admission.

“The name’s Poe Dameron,” he offered as he pulled up a chair and joined their table without permission. “This is my second mate Paige,” he pointed to the woman behind his left shoulder. “And this is Zeeke.” He pointed to the boy over his right. “General Leia Organa sent me… with this–“

He pulled out a data disk and slid it over the enamel textured table.

Odhen’s smile vanished as soon as he heard the man speak, his brows growing heavy again. Ton-Ton spoke to him, though not as loudly as his usual choice of expression. The boy with the ringlets –Zeeke– lifted his chin slightly at the sound of Jawaese. Calista wondered if he was familiar with the dialect.

Calista opened her mouth to say something when Poe spoke over her, “I’ve been sent here to bring you back with us… to our base.”

“Why should I trust anything you say?” Koa stared him down.

The smaller woman, Paige, gulped in place of Poe.

Poe ruffled his hair and rubbed his hand over his scruff growing just below his nose, “Look, _princess_, I’m just following orders. I was told you needed my help. Here I am.” There was a slight petulance to his tone that made Calista chuckle softly. Koa and Mokk-Toh didn’t find his tone of voice as amusing.

Zeeke bent side-ways towards Paige and whispered something into her ear. Suddenly her eyes went buggy as she turned her focus to Odhen, her mouth pried open by whatever it was Zeeke had told her. The burly pilot was made aware of the woman staring at him by the crude way in which Ton-Ton had jabbed at his resting palm. With a pained snarl, he retracted his hand and stood off the stool.

“I’m headin' to the Somnambulist, gonna make sure she’s all fuelled up. If you see Maz, don’t tell her I’m here,” he said as he pulled Ton-Ton behind him in the red trolley.

Calista, Mokk-Toh and Koa all hummed in unison as they watched their pilot stride away. What ensued next was a series of rapid fired back and forth between Koa and Poe. Both of whom grew more and more annoyed by the others arrogance, impatience and reluctance to back down. Calista had tuned them out as she stared at the data disk under Poe’s palm. It looked to be the same make as the ones she and Mokk-Toh had been entrusted with. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Calista tried to speak for a second time, but it was Mokk-Toh who spoke this time, “We need to leave.”

_“Do you sense something?”_ Calista asked in their native tongue.

Mokk-Toh gave a rigid nod as he trained his eyes up, not to the ceiling, but beyond. His good arm reaching to massage the tender flesh of his formerly dislocated left shoulder. “Now,” he advised.

A crackling noise moved through the structure, a tingle lining every metal structure. Zeeke pinched his muscles to stop the cramp that had been triggered in his two fingers bending unnaturally.

“What was that?” Paige asked.

“It felt like a pulse,” Poe replied. 

“We’re too late…” Mokk-Toh said.

Calista scurried after the panicked Mokk-Toh as he rushed out of the cantina and made his way to the spot where the Somnambulist was parked. Koa and Poe were right on their heels, the two of them still locked in a heated battle of words.

“I must insist you and your people return with me, you’ll be safer there,” he argued.

“No place is safe in the galaxy right now,” she bit back.

He sighed, “Look, you’re my mission and I always complete my mission.”

“You’re going to be sorely disappointed then.”

Without warning, a gust of strong winds blew through a brush of dense trees and then a hot, blinding flash of light devoured a sector of the forest and left nothing behind but the thrum of the earth quaking beneath their feet and ash where trees used to be.

“By the stars… Poe,” Paige tugged on his brown jacket. “Isn’t that where…”

Poe forced his spit down with a rough bob of his Adam’s apple, “The Rose One…”

Calista’s eyes narrowed when she felt Mokk-Toh’s grip grow stone cold and then let go of her wrist. He unfastened the knot that held his sling in place and his bones groaned and popped in agony as he stretched it free. Dark bruises and fresh cuts marring his skin.

He unsheathed his sword and his voice turned dark, “He’s here.”

Automatically, Calista reached for her blaster's handle while Koa reached behind her neck for her viro-blade's hilt.

“Who?” Zeeke turned to them, worried and afraid –though valiantly keeping his wits about him.

Mokk-Toh’s eyes glazed over, “Versengen.”

Then, as if on cue, an ugly, droning ship glided through the air and set itself down a few paces in front of them. The doors peeled back and out of the darkness, the bounty hunter emerged.

“I told you, I’d find you.” the masked hunter’s voice was distorted. “And look,” he tilted his head as far as his restrictive armour would let him. “You’ve got friends.” His laugh sounded like someone choking on marbles. “Hello… Calista. You look so much like your father…”

_My father?_ She wondered. _What does he have to do with any of this?_

Shivers prickled at her tired flesh as another ripple of unnerving laughter filled the air. Calista’s stomach grew tight and her chest felt hollow when the burning odours in the air filled her lungs. There it was again… despair.

_To be continued..._


	6. Severance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian's trailer dropped today and I-- *whew!*  
[Read up](https://globalnews.ca/news/5804368/amazon-rainforest-fires-how-to-help/) on what's happening in the Amazon and how you can make a difference.  
_I'll be linking more links to causes for indigenous tribes and how you can help the Amazon below. I hope you check them out!_

  


Versengen

**Takodana...**

The ship had descended upon a blanket of clouds, dispersing them like puffs of smoke. The drone of the engine was so loud it constantly kept the entire metal hull vibrating like a sinister, predatory animal.

With a single push of a button, a plasma charge as bright as a falling star was fired from the ship's cannon, devouring a clearing of woods where a Resistance ship was parked. As black smoke rose, a shadow befell the land and an eerie hush crept over the ship while the canon’s recharged.

Versengen could feel a waring energy rage beneath his feet. Tunnelling far beneath the ship and the air, all the way down, to the green grass below. There was a familiarity to it, like a thousand needle pricks to his back. He knew he was here. He could feel _him_...Mokk-Toh. He was so close that his very presence turned the air inside his pressurised ship acidic.

Versengen's scorched face stung like a new wound. The pin-prick tingling beneath his flesh was uncomfortable, triggering repressed memories.

Anger rose like bile to burn at his uvula. The taste was bitter and primal. A metaphysical ignition inside his belly turned his blood into kerosene and his nerves into kindling. He was burning from the inside out like he had swallowed a thousand suns and left them to incinerate whatever remained of the man he was before the helmet and armour. Whoever that was mattered not anymore. He was and always would be Versengen. And it was time to do what Versengen did best.

Immolate.

His ship touched down with no grace. The entire mechanical beast growling. Light bled into his dark compartment, flooding it with white as the doors peeled back.

Versengen stood ready. Teeth grinding. Jaw locked. Muscles tense. Mokk-Toh would not get away from him this time. This he swore.

He stepped into the light and spoke, “I told you, I’d find you... And look...” he tilted his head as far as his restrictive armour would let him. “You’ve got friends.”

Versengen laughed, finding humour in what he was about to say next, his vocal cords too damaged to make his laugh sound natural anymore. “Hello… Calista. You look so much like your father..."

Calista furrowed her brows in confusion and Versengen noticed how quickly Mokk-Toh and the little Knight-Captain beside him clenched in anticipation for a fight. One defensive hand brandishing an unsheathed sword. The other brushing against the hilt of a concealed blade while the rest sought after their crude blasters strapped to their thighs.

_This is going to be fun._

Calista

The bounty hunter encroaching towards them was frightening in the way he held himself. Six to one and yet he still spoke with a confidence to his menacing voice. Calista had always thought Mokk-Toh and Koa to be indestructible, but now, faced with such a mangled presence, she felt unsure whether that age-old belief would hold up against such an unhinged foe. His armour alone was soldered together in a cacophony of strife. One of his arms looked to have belonged to a Death Trooper. That alone was cause for concern.

Mokk-Toh spoke without ever removing his eyes from Versengen, “Get to the ship.”

Calista peered to try and catch a glimpse of his face, “What about you? You aren’t healed yet.”

“Go, princess.”

Those words grabbed Poe’s attention, but Calista ignored his confused gaze. “Not without you. I just got you back.”

A commotion began to grow by the entrance to Maz’s castle. Several bounty hunters and mercenaries glanced down at their datapads and various other communications devices. Soon Calista and the very distraught Resistance soldiers would have more to contend with than just Versengen alone.

“Where ever your ship is, I say we make haste,” Poe offered as he unholstered his blaster. “Now.” He urged when more of Takodana’s less-than-desirable’s poured out of the large structure.

Paige, Poe and Zeeke started glancing from one side where Versengen’s ship was obstructing the path to the other side where a line of angry mercs were filing up. Everyone was jittery, like cornered animals. Zeeke and Poe held themselves together while under pressure, but Paige seemed to be having a hard time keeping her footing steady.

“Poe, get Calista out of here,” Koa said sternly. Her face growing cold and serious as she pushed forward. “Mokk-Toh and I will hold them off until you get to the ship.”

“Koa—“ Calista was about to protest, her stubbornness forcing her to stand her ground but Poe had already wrapped a hand around her arm, pulling her closer to the dense brush of trees.

“Zeeke, Paige!” He shouted after his teammates. “Into the trees, we’ll lose them in there.”

Koa unsheathed her viro-blade and it came to life in a bright yellow hue, her back facing Mokk-Toh’s as she stared down the advancing troop of enemies.

Calista struggled against Poe’s grip, she wanted to stand and fight beside Koa and Mokk-Toh. But when had she ever gotten what she wanted? Begrudgingly, she yanked her arm free, but before Poe could protest, she kept following them into the dense woods and through the black smoke. Her hand cramping into a fist.

With one last look behind her, Calista prayed. _Stay alive. _

Koa

Koa held her ground. Fighting off any and all mercenaries that dared chase after her princess. Her blade strokes were swift, sure and lethal. Slicing at the air until her blade whistled viciously. The hum of the plasma charge crackled like static whenever it came in contact with armour plating.

Mokk-Toh was not having as nearly an easy time as Koa. His stance was poor, faltering, and his arm would shake whenever it clashed with Versengen’s own sword.

Through the corner of her eye, Koa made sure to monitor Mokk-Toh’s situation. All the while, she couldn’t shake this eerie feeling swirling in her gut. It was like she knew that bounty hunter in the stitched-together suit of armour. More accurately, it was as though he and Mokk-Toh had an intimate knowledge of the other. Their battle movements were identical, like watching a man take on his reflection. Even Versengen’s sword was similar and, if not for the burn damage, it probably would be a perfect replica. Everything about their skirmish didn’t sit right with Koa. But now wasn’t the time to inquire about such matters. Now was the time to focus on survival.

Another hoard of mercenaries advanced from a flanking position, knocking her onto the ground and allowing a handful of stragglers to get past her defensive perimeter and head into the woods. Koa bit back swears as she used her sword as an anchor to get her back onto her feet.

Just as her spine stretched upwards, a hot streak missed her cheek by a centimetre or so, burning through a small loose braid and severing her hair. She weaved to the side, ducking away from any more oncoming blaster rounds, but a grunt from behind her drew her attention.

Mokk-Toh was brought to his knees as a circlet of singed clothing and flesh appeared instantly below his right rib cage. Koa thought for sure Versengen would use Mokk-Toh’s new state of injury to his advantage, but instead, he craned his neck over to the man who had his finger on the trigger and a shaky growl left his helmet. After a moment of unsettling silence, he then did the strangest thing. He steeled his blade and advanced towards the line of mercenaries and bounty hunters Koa had been fighting and took them on with great ferocity.

Koa rushed to Mokk-Toh’s side while Versengen ripped the mercenaries apart. His rage so pure and unbridled that she almost felt too scared to look at the onslaught –it was all screams and incendiary grenades.

“No one kills him but me!” Versengen growled as he practically ripped someone in half.

“Can you stand?” Koa asked as she scurried to Mokk-Toh’s side, slinking her arm around his heavy frame to act as his anchor. A whirring in the distance alerted her to the Somnambulist growing airborne.

Mokk-Toh took in a deep breath, sweat covering his brow and dripping to his knees, “I can try.” He croaked out. He tried to rise to his feet, but his knees buckled and he took Koa back down with him. “Arrghhh!” an unnatural sound emanated from his left arm.

A ball of flame erupted in her peripheral and out strode Versengen, new blood sprays on his armour and sections of its metal frame ripped apart by blaster fire.

“Stay down,” Koa whispered to Mokk-Toh, his arm slipping from hers as he failed to clamp his fingers around her wrist tight enough.

Versengen gave her wide birth, “Move.”

“You want him?” she picked up Mokk-Toh’s sword off the ground with her free hand. “You’ll have to go through me.”

“Move aside. I won’t ask again.”

“And I’m not moving.”

Versengen sighed but still reached for his sword, unsheathing it once more. “Then you will die.”

Mokk-Toh strained to speak but all Koa could hear was his pained gasps and wheezing breath. She needed to hold fast until Calista and Odhen pulled through.

Versengen’s approach was slow, at first. Then his pace picked up into a sprint. With the sound of metal clashing against metal, and sparks of energy crackling against metal, Koa and Versengen were locked in battle. Nowhere near evenly matched, Koa staggered and slid about, constantly getting knocked off her feet or thrown to the ground. Her arms were shaking, just as Mokk-Toh’s had been earlier. And now her brow was the one covered in sweat.

Versengen fought like a beast. Yet, there was some grace to his fluidity. A sliver of order to his chaos. His fighting style resembled that of her homeworld’s mountain tribe’s. It felt wrong to fight against such ancient technique. Like fighting an elder. It still bothered her that much of him felt… familiar.

Koa parried and blocked, but he was too overpowered and most of his attacks broke through her defences. With a painful kick to her stomach, Versengen pushed her away so he could slice clean through her bone in a lightning-quick motion. A sickening howl left her lips as pain nearly paralysed her. Her body falling back onto the soft grass limply.

“No!” Mokk-Toh protested as he crawled towards her bleeding body.

“I warned you,” Versengen sneered and his shadow covered half of Koa’s face. Her eyes were fluttering in an internal battle to stay awake as tears streamed from her honey-coloured eyes. Wrapping both his hands around his sword's hilt, he lifted the sword high in the air, the final killing blow dangling over Koa’s heart like a guillotine waiting to be set loose.

With struggling breaths, Koa stretched out her right hand, fingers wiggling close to the sword’s hilt a few inches away. Almost in reach and yet… it was simply too far.

Poe

Red –sizzling, hot and fast– streaked through the dense brown and green of the shady thicket. Plasma rounds hailing like sideways falling rain, cutting through tree-trunks and branches and leaves.

Paige was swift on her feet, darting in front of them as she pushed dense leaves out of her way. Between each interval of red rain, Calista would glance over her shoulder every now and again, letting off a round of shots after she took cover behind a thick trunk. Zeeke was light and agile on his feet too. Tucking and rolling when necessary and shouting after Paige so she wouldn’t go too far ahead.

They took a quick moment of respite behind a line of trees, the smoke was much thinner this far in. Poe was grateful, it meant his eyes would no longer sting and his lungs wouldn’t feel like they were on fire. Calista took cover to his left while Zeeke and Paige were to his right.

“How much farther?” Poe asked between shallow breaths.

“Not far, it’s just beyond that treeline over there,” Calista nudged her head past Zeeke and Paige.

A few more shots glided through the air, flinging splinters into Calista’s eye. A drop of blood spilt from the apex of her eyelid and meandered down like a scarlet teardrop. She wiped it off as though timber hadn’t just scratched the side of her eyeball. She appeared numb to the world in that moment –dazed.

Calista pulled out her blaster and called after Zeeke, “Hold onto this for me,” she said as she tossed the light weapon his way.

Zeeke’s nimble fingers caught it easily, hands bracing it like a trained professional.

“Where are you going?” Poe asked as another hail of rounds made him crane his neck back to save his nose from getting an impromptu nose job.

“Sneaking around. Do you have any charges?”

Poe checked his belt and frowned when he pulled out two measly ion pulse grenades. He held them out to her, “I should go with you. Wouldn’t do me any good if you wound up hurt… or worse.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t whole, “Keep your people safe, Poe. I’ll worry about myself.” She peered over the large block of timber she was leaning against to get a better view. More plasma rounds drilled through wooden surfaces. She hissed in disappointment and then turned to Poe with a half-cocked smirk, “Maybe a little cover fire wouldn’t hurt?”

Poe nodded and turned to his right, “On my mark,” he held up three fingers and silently counted down. Once he hit one, Paige and Zeeke opened fire. Calista dashed into the dense forestry and was lost from his sights almost instantly. Poe prayed he hadn’t just made a mistake.

Paige was trying hard to keep her aim steady and her breathing focused. Zeeke, on the other hand, was still soldiering on. Poe wondered what had happened in his life to make him so desensitised to such displays of violence. An explosion sounded out in the air, but there was no fire, no smoke and no blinding flash of light. Instead, a cushion of atoms rushed through the epicentre of the point of impact and rippled outward with tremendous force, nearly knocking him back and causing several branches to lean outwards.

Calista had set off the grenades. Wherever she was. Now they had a chance to make a break for the treeline and board the ship.

“Head for the treeline,” Poe ordered Zeeke and Paige.

“What about you?” Paige asked with a shaky voice.

“I’ll wait a few seconds then follow you guys, lay down cover fire if I need to.”

Zeeke nodded and held out his hand for Paige, she stalled for a second, shooting Poe a worried look before she accepted his direction and took Zeeke’s hand.

Poe counted the seconds until they turned to a near minute. He flirted with the idea of waiting one more second, one more minute, longer but he couldn’t. He left his spot behind the tree and made haste towards the ship. Relief flooded his system when Calista burst through one of his blind-spots and jogged beside him.

“Did I worry you?” she asked.

Poe wiped his smirk away with a simple, “Hardly.”

They embarked on the ship swiftly. The ship glided low, almost close enough to the canopies to touch. It took immense skill to keep the heavy ship low without much turbulence shaking them about. Poe was in awe of how such an old rust-bucket was able to fly with little resistance.

The bay doors were left open and wind washed through the cargo bay area. Paige was holding onto a sheet of tarp wrapped around several crates to keep her body steady. Zeeke mimicked Poe and Calista and held onto a low hanging pipe on the ceiling.

A shrill scream found its way to his ears and Calista gasped in shock when she saw Koa laying on the ground, Versengen’s sword mere inches from plunging into her heart, her left arm severed from the elbow in a clean, precise cut. The green of the grass beneath her body was slowly staining a dark red.

A squeaking wheel stopped short of the edge of the open door, the Jawa from before had wheeled a half bodied droid close to Poe’s leg.

“You may want to take a step back,” the droid said courteously before he pulled the trigger of the rocket launcher strapped to his shoulder. The rocket flew down in a spinning motion, hitting Versengen’s shoulder plate and sending him hurtling through the air. Dirt was raised into the air by the action and Mokk-Toh crawled to shield Koa from the violent winds that grew stronger the lower the Somnambulist descended.

Calista jumped off the ship before it landed, racing past the clearing to get to her people. Zeeke darted after her, using his strength to hoist up the taller, slimmer man over his small shoulders once he got to him. Poe ran to help them and called for Paige to follow.

Versengen’s body began to stir, he was still alive. Poe reached around to pick up Koa hastily while Zeeke and Paige half-dragged, half-carried Mokk-Toh back to the ship at a sluggish pace. Calista saw the bounty hunter rise up and crawl towards them and she instinctively grabbed Poe and Zeeke’s blasters, firing off shot after shot as she backtracked to the ship. Versengen didn’t have the strength to dodge so he simply took each hit, slowing his movements with every blast.

The Jawa fixed another rocket to his droid’s shoulder launcher and waited until they were all safely inside the ship before he fired. Versengen was already aiming at their ship when the second explosion blew him clear of the Somnambulist, his body disappearing into the dark cover of the trees.

Poe closed his eyes for a moment before making his way to the med bay, Calista, Zeeke, Paige and the Jawa in tow. Artificial light lit the way as the doors finally closed and the ship pressurised. A stream of blood mapping their way while Koa groaned in pain around his chest.

The heavy sound of flesh sagging down onto the medical gurney in the med bay was disconcerting. Koa’s teeth bared down, molar to molar, canine to canine. Calista had stayed by her side, holding her hand. White knuckle in white knuckle from the death grip Koa had on Calista’s soft flesh. Red marks forming in the shape of long fingers on their palms.

“Does anyone have medical training?” Poe asked with wide eyes. His brown jacket slick with blood. He shrugged it off and made a mental note to get it cleaned later.

The Jawa uttered something in quick succession, his arms banging against the legless droid’s head.

“I am versed in several basic medical procedures. I can cauterise the wound to keep her from bleeding out. If we put her under, she should survive the journey to your base of operations. My master requires the co-ordinates,” the droid said like it was a regular afternoon. His pleasantly programed vibrato annoyed Poe, but he tried his best not to dislike the helpful droid for something he was programmed with.

Paige’s face turned white as a sheet of paper, “_Cauterise the woun_—“

“Do it,” Calista said stoically, her expression unreadable.

Poe handed the Jawa his datapad displaying the coordinates and the droid was lugged onto a higher surface so he could reach the would-be stump where Koa’s arm used to be. A plasma torch ignited in the droid’s steady hand. Koa turned to glance at Calista’s foggy eyes, her face a portrait of despair.

Paige whimpered, struggling to keep her eyes small and serious. The involuntary action forced her to place her hand over her face to stifle her sounds.

Zeeke held his breath.

“I’m going to cauterise the wound now,” the droid informed the two distressed women.

Koa’s bottom lip started to tremble, but her cries were inaudible –mute.

“I won’t leave your side. I’m right here,” Calista nodded, smoothing the hairs away from Koa’s sweaty face with clammy hands. She leaned close and whispered over and over again: “It’s going to be okay.”

The smell of burning flesh carried with it a harrowing feeling of nauseating sickness. Koa’s screams followed next. They were so shrill and sharp that Poe actually feared she’d sever her vocal cords if she kept screaming herself hoarse.

Poe’s stomach turned inside out from the smell and he had to dig his blunt nails into his palm as hard as he could to try and distract himself. Paige wasn’t as controlled as the rest of the room. That was the final straw. Her face contorted from a look of horror into one of disgust as she sprinted out of the room. 

When the screaming stopped, Koa’s head slumped lifelessly to the side. A deep exhale slipping between her clenched teeth, one of which had cracked from the pressure. Shaky breaths were traded in for held back sobs. Calista was still chanting her promises that everything would be fine while her legs buckled and her knees hit the floor. Her hand still holding onto Koa’s.

Mokk-Toh limped towards Calista, a consoling hand placed on the crown of her shaking spine.

“It’s going to be okay…” her voice barely managed to choke out.

Zeeke helped the droid down into his red trolley and dragged him as quietly as he could out of the room.

Poe couldn’t breathe. The room was too condensed. It felt like he was floating helplessly in a dark vacuum. “I’m sorry,” were the only words of consolation he could bring himself to say.

Everything had happened so quickly that he hadn’t had the chance to gather his thoughts. He figured Paige was probably in a worse state than him. He needed to talk to her. Make sure she was alright.

Finding Paige was easy, all Poe had to do was follow the sound of retching and running water behind a lavatory door displaying the red ‘occupied’ sign. He waited a few minutes before delicately knocking on the door.

“Paige… you alright in there?”

She retched one more time before admitting freely, “No.”

“I know the feeling,” Poe sighed, rubbing his eyelids to try and scrape the sight of Koa’s flesh searing under the intense heat of the plasma torch. “What happened today was grim, I know… but—“

The door hissed open and Paige walked out with her mouth pried open in a stupefied look, “_Grim?_” she said the word like it was some foreign swear word. “_Grim_ is seeing the aftermath of an explosion. _Grim_ is hearing war stories shared by veterans in the mess hall. This? This is something else. This is too real to just be _grim_!”

Paige was angry and she was entitled to feel that way, she needed to vent. Instead of saying anything that could make matters worse, Poe opted to lean his sore muscles against the cold steel walls of the ship. His concentration focused on a section of panelling that was brazed together. The flash of Koa’s flesh curdling closed over her bloody cut bombarded his vision again and he shifted uncomfortably. His stomach turning yet again.

Paige slid to the floor, head between her knees, “It's different… isn’t it?”

He turned to her, “What is?”

“Being amongst the stars… fighting amongst the stars. Compared to being on the ground –on the front lines…”

Poe’s head fell back onto the metal wall, his hands pushing his hair and sweat away from his face. He glanced in the direction he had come from, Calista’s frame was still crumpled on the floor, visible through the semi-transparent walls of the med bay. Guilt panged at his chest, but mostly he was filled with relief and that made him angry.

“Yes,” he answered finally. “It is.”

Versengen

Versengen pulled his body through the dirt with what little reserves of strength he had left. Once inside his ship, he popped his helmet off and let the cool air interact with the slick wetness on his disfigured face. He leaned against a shiny surface and saw his own morphed reflection in the polished wall. His knuckle struck the strip of panelling until it indented inward.

“Get us airborne,” he ordered the ship’s AI in charge of autopilot and the ship rumbled to life, sending vibrations through his bruised body.

His medical droid walked in from an unseen position and pulled him onto the surgical table where it started to remove his armour plate by plate. Loud gonging noises echoed out every time a piece of armour fell and his muscles were freed from the burden of hefty metal.

“Open a secure channel to the Duchess,” he spoke out to the black ship’s cramped space.

Maligma’s profile came into view as a projection came to life in front of him, “I hope you have good news.”

“They eluded me.”

“_He_ eluded you, you mean.”

Versengen’s jaw muscle flexed of its own accord, “Yes. _He_ eluded me.”

“Again,” Maligma’s eyes narrowed.

His nostrils curled up, “Again.”

“Make sure you don’t allow such discrepancies to occur a third time, Versengen. There won’t be a fourth. I assure you,” her threat came across as clear as day.

A man with red hair and a pale face stepped next to the Duchess’s side. He looked down at Versengen with entitlement. He wore the colours and uniform of the First Order. His arms were folded in a way that puffed his chest to make it look larger.

“You have two days,” she warned before ending their transmission.

Versengen pushed his droid aside and ripped off the rest of his armour crudely.

“Follow the beacon at a safe distance,” he barked out more orders before flooding a tank with bacta fluid. A breathing apparatus strapped to his nose and mouth while the glowing blue liquid covered his body cut by cut, bruise by bruise, burn by burn. 

As the blue liquid submerged over him, his reflection stared back at him through the glass walls of the tank. His unmarred skin taunting him with the face of another man. The face of Mokk-Toh.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Originally posted by @alicedrawslesmis on Tumblr**
> 
> [THIS](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.fundopodaali.org.br%2Fdoe&t=OTViNmYwMzg3M2Q5YzFhNWI3MzZiNjY4Yzc2ZmE0YTg1MzQ5Yjg5MixETXpqVDdXSw%3D%3D&b=t%3A7WM-G1DjsFvxr2XQ3hjylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fscribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F187210668610%2Falicedrawslesmis-alicedrawslesmis-ugh-fine-my&m=1) is a a fund for indigenous peoples of the Amazon (Brasil only)
> 
> [THIS](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.vakinha.com.br%2Fvaquinha%2Fapoie-o-1-encontro-de-mulheres-indigenas%2Fcontribua%3Fintl_payment%3D1&t=NTQ2MGMwNjg0MzkwYTJjYzUwZWQ5YjA3ZjVmMjZkNGMxMTEwMWZmOCxETXpqVDdXSw%3D%3D&b=t%3A7WM-G1DjsFvxr2XQ3hjylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fscribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F187210668610%2Falicedrawslesmis-alicedrawslesmis-ugh-fine-my&m=1) is a link to donate from abroad to the indigenous women’s march, it has already happened but you can still donate to support the cause
> 
> [THIS](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.vakinha.com.br%2Fvaquinha%2Fseja-um-apoiador-do-acampamento-terra-livre-2019%2Fcontribua%3Fintl_payment%3D1&t=ZTgwMjdhNjUxYjRmMjkyYzhmNTIzNWIxNjM1Nzk4MWI0NzU4YjBjZSxETXpqVDdXSw%3D%3D&b=t%3A7WM-G1DjsFvxr2XQ3hjylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fscribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F187210668610%2Falicedrawslesmis-alicedrawslesmis-ugh-fine-my&m=1) is a link to support the [free land camp](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fapib.info%2F2019%2F04%2F01%2Fsupport-the-2019-free-land-camp%2F&t=N2Q1ZmY0NmZjMTYzM2E2OTBlZDNmYWI3Mjg0OTFjOTQ0MDhlNmIxZSxETXpqVDdXSw%3D%3D&b=t%3A7WM-G1DjsFvxr2XQ3hjylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fscribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F187210668610%2Falicedrawslesmis-alicedrawslesmis-ugh-fine-my&m=1), and you can email them at **apibbsb@gmail.com** if you really want to find ways to support them, donations will go to [APIB](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fapib.info%2Fapib%2F%3Flang%3Den&t=MDU5NDAwMjY4YmQ2ZDIzOWNjNzI1OTE4ZjZiY2RhNjMxYTEzNGQ4OCxETXpqVDdXSw%3D%3D&b=t%3A7WM-G1DjsFvxr2XQ3hjylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fscribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F187210668610%2Falicedrawslesmis-alicedrawslesmis-ugh-fine-my&m=1) (Brazilian Articulation of Indigenous Peoples) and you can keep up with their [news here](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fapib.info%2Fcategory%2Fingles%2F&t=MTNmZjliOThiODNkZGUzNmRlYTIxMGIxMTFhYWQwYzJjNzQxZjExZSxETXpqVDdXSw%3D%3D&b=t%3A7WM-G1DjsFvxr2XQ3hjylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fscribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F187210668610%2Falicedrawslesmis-alicedrawslesmis-ugh-fine-my&m=1)
> 
> (APIB is coordinated by, among others, [Sonia Guajajara](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dqc0ze7cv7dE&t=ZWUwZTYxZmQ2ODE1N2RjOWM0MGNkZjg1Y2E2MWU5MDVkYTk2YmI2YyxETXpqVDdXSw%3D%3D&b=t%3A7WM-G1DjsFvxr2XQ3hjylw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fscribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F187210668610%2Falicedrawslesmis-alicedrawslesmis-ugh-fine-my&m=1)! so if you know her you know this means shit will get done)


	7. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is a little short, but you gotta have some breathing room right?

Odhen

The Somnambulist strained against Odhen’s grip, the nav-stick rigid and stubborn. His hands were sweaty and raw, his muscles shaking as he tried to keep the ship from tearing in half from the intense speeds she was flying through. The Somnambulist had taken too much damage and hadn’t received nearly enough love. It was a miracle she was still holding fast.

“Climb, girl, climb,” he spoke endearingly to the metal ship as they broke through Takodana’s stratosphere. Heat from the friction of speed licked at his windshield.

Using the back of his hand, Odhen whipped the sweat from his forehead and pushed it up into his greasy hairline. A shaky laugh breaking through the empty cockpit as he finally saw stars.

He felt like he could finally slouch back in his chair, then he heard Koa scream loud and shrill. His heart started to race all over again as he swallowed against the dry lump in his throat. A weak sigh leaving him as he blinked away the images that plagued his mind. He blinked away the sound of his wife’s dying breaths coming through, delayed and nearly inaudible, via a weak tight-beam transmission. Now his eyes were watering and he stared down at the medal meant to signify heroism on his jacket and he sobbed, hand pulling the pin so tightly it threatened to tear through his jacket’s tough material.

Relief surged through him when Koa went silent. The whole ship was deader than a graveyard after that. The only sound was the Somnambulist’s soothing thrum. Ton-Ton waddled over, exhausted pants leaving his unseen mouth as he handed a datapad to Odhen, revealing in Jawaese what was on it.

Odhen wiped his face with the rag that always hung on his belt, the smell of grease was strong, but he didn’t care. He read over the coordinates and swore. Fate was a cruel mistress. Of all the damned places in the entire galaxy, of course their next stop would be the one place he swore never to return to. D’Qar.

Ton-Ton jumped several times, trying his best to get into the co-pilot seat and Odhen chuckled with no humour as he watched his friend struggle to get up. The Jawa took offence at his rudeness and pulled out a wrench from under his robes and threw it at Odhen’s head.

In sluggish movements, using limbs too tired to function, Odhen blocked the wrench from hitting into his face but that just transferred the impact to his shattered elbow and he winced.

“The elbow, mind the elbow, you short devil!” Odhen hissed as he rubbed at his old war injury.

With a grumble, he picked Ton-Ton up and placed him on the chair, an accusatory finger wiggling in front of the Jawa’s one eye, “How many times have I lectured you about hittin’ people? This is my ship, I’m in charge and I’m orderin’ you to cut it out before I space you.”

Ton-Ton swore at him in rapid-fired shots, his little hands whacking the air causing his robe’s sleeves to swish about. Odhen was about to trade his own insults but then he suddenly stopped himself. He was no mood for their exhausting dynamic.

He punched in the coordinates and with a prayer that they wouldn’t be turned to stardust, he set the ship into hyperdrive and just watched the raining stars for a quiet minute.

“I need a drink,” Odhen complained as he licked the sides of his dry cheeks. “Keep us from collidin’ with a satellite will ya’.”

Ton-Ton dismissed him with a wave, then barked over his shoulder as Odhen stood to leave.

“I’m not your barmaid, get one yourself,” Odhen replied.

Ton-Ton made a snide comment and Odhen shook his head before giving in to the Jawa’s request, “Fine, what d’ya want?”

Ton-Ton’s pitch rose with uncertainty as he prattled on. Odhen held up his hand to stop the little firecracker from droning on and giving him a headache.

“We ain’t got none of that. I don’t even know why you think we would. We’re smugglers, not snooty aristocrats. We got some Thessi hooch and we got one cask left of that fancy _Ne'tra gal_stuff we were supposed to deliver. Pick your poison.”

Ton-Ton answered in monotone and Odhen nodded in response.

“Hooch. Commin’ up,” Odhen blinked slowly as he made his way to the lower decks.

Odhen passed the med bay on his way to the lower deck. Inside he saw Koa in a medically induced coma, her vital organs hooked up to old and beaten machines that needed replacing at least a decade ago. Her warm breath fogged up the mask that covered half her face. Fresh blade slashes and green contusions on her bronze skin marred her arms and legs to imperfection. It would be more accurate to say one and a half arms now. 

There was a faint smell of antiseptic and burned hair. It itched at his nose. The white gown they had dressed her in reminded Odhen of funerals and with that simple, unwanted thought, his heart palpitated uncomfortably. 

She was so young, too young to look like this. He didn’t think he could survive seeing someone die again. It filled him with fear. 

He felt heavy all of a sudden, a name he hadn’t uttered in years slipping out as he braced his jacket at the left side, “Len…”

All of a sudden, the young, freckle-faced boy who held himself like a man, wandered up to Odhen, a sparkle in his eye that meant he knew who he was approaching –and it wasn’t Odhen Boro the smuggler, it was the other guy, the so-called hero.

“Heya, we didn’t get the chance to properly be introduced. I’m-“

Odhen frowned, he didn’t need another name to go with another face. He knew enough of those already and no good had come of adding more to his memory. “I don’t care.”

“Oh,” Zeeke’s mouth fell, his outstretched hand crumpling into a ball as he shoved it back into his pale blue utility pants, the other held onto a blood-stained brown jacket too big for his slender arms. “I just… I wanted to ask-“

Odhen brushed passed him, determined to be alone, “If you need somethin' go ask the droid, it’s what he’s bloody there for.”

“I- Uh… sorry. Of course. I just wanted to say thanks, is all,” Zeeke ducked away in search of Watts.

Odhen pressed the pads of his fingers to his eyes until he saw white spots. 

“Now I need two bloody drinks,” he grimaced.

Calista

Calista sat with her head in her hands and her body slumped against a cold metal wall. The floor was uncomfortable, digging through her thighs until it found bone. She didn’t care. At least it meant she was still capable of feeling. She was exhausted. After having a disagreement with Mokk-Toh about his not wanting to be put under to allow his wounds to heal faster, Calista decided that the one thing she needed more than anything was solitude. Or the next best thing in a smugglers ship.

The thrum of the engine was louder here below deck. It smelled of ozone and the air tasted like foam. It was probably the effect of being so close to the fuel converters. The darkness was soothing though, and that’s all that mattered to her.

The sound of clanking echoed from an equally dark compartment, the grumbling and grumpy swearing let her know it was Odhen. His frustrated argument with inanimate objects made her smile. He may have been ungroomed, greasy and of poor manner, but something about Odhen struck Calista as being a man with a heart too sensitive for this time. A man guarded because he feared his own empathy, his own vulnerability. He reminded her of what her father would have turned into had he lived to see another war engulf the galaxy.

Another set of footsteps descended the ladder. Poe’s voice called out and Odhen yelped in surprise.

“Sorry,” Poe chuckled lightly. “Just looking for the kid. You seen him?”

“He ain’t here, last I saw he was by the med bay,” Odhen said.

“I just came from there, he’s not in the cockpit or the comms room.”

Odhen cleared his throat, “Look, I can’t help you. I don’t have eyes everywhere. I’m a pilot, not a Jedi.”

“You been drinking?” Poe asked with concern. 

“What of it?”

“I just expected the man in charge of navigating us through dangerous space to be sober enough to know the difference between which button launches a torpedo and which brings down the landing gear,” Poe said snidely.

“Why does everyone insist on talkin’ to me?” Odhen’s voice got an octave louder, “This is my ship. Don’t like how I run it, the airlocks that way.”

“What happened to you?” Poe asked almost with pity. “Those medals are Resistance issued. And assuming you didn’t steal them, you used to be more than… _this.”_

“Yeah, well if you’re the best General Leia has to offer, you’re in for a rude awakening kid. Wipe those stars out your eyes, this is war, war ain’t no place for poster boys like yourself. If you expect to live through it, you’ll be sporting a tough shell too,” Odhen spoke rudely and yet his words held an ominous premonition to it. 

Heavy feet clomped away and the whir of a door sliding open followed after. 

Calista heaved a sigh. All she wanted was some damn peace and quiet for two minutes. Two. Minutes.

She took a breath and cast her eyes up, staring at the buzzing light. Poe walked into the room and froze for a moment, taken aback by the fact someone else was down there with him.

“Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to…” His dark eyes narrowed, a thumb pointing behind him. “You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

Calista smiled and said lazily, “I didn’t hear a thing.”

Poe chuckled, motioning to leave before something in his face decided otherwise, “You alright down here?”

“I’m fine.”

For some reason, he didn’t buy her words. Poe ruffled his hair before skittishly moving towards Calista, one thumb looped around his belt loop. After rocking on the balls of his feet, he sighed and slid down beside her.

There was only the sound of the engine thrum for a long time. Calista’s eyes kept wandering through the ship, her nails digging at the patterned panelling on the floor. Poe held his wrists with his knees digging into the crooks of his elbows.

“So, _princess_ huh?” he said softly.

Calista chuckled, “You assumed. I merely went along with it.”

“A heads up would have been nice, now I look like a right fool in front of royalty,” he mused.

“Well, fool_ is_ a good look on you,” she joked.

He held out his hand, “We didn’t get the chance to have a proper introduction. Poe Dameron, Commander with the Resistance.”

Calista blinked slowly, fatigue circling her eyes, “Calista Ordell, _Princess_ of Thesmora.”

They shook hands and then returned to staring at the wall in front of them.

“How’s your friend doing?” he asked.

Calista inhaled deeply, “I’d rather not… if that’s okay with you.”

Poe nodded, changing the subject, “You know, you two look a lot alike.”

Calista eyed him, nibbling at the corner of her mouth as she felt the muscle tug, “Is that your way of saying it wasn’t your fault that you mistook her for me?”

Poe scratched at the scruff under his chin, “Maybe…” he smiled. “But you _do_ resemble each other.”

Calista started undoing one of her braids to keep her hands busy, “There’s some Ordell in her blood. A great grandmother or something other, I think. She got the warmer eyes though.” 

“And yet, why do I sense that she’s pricklier than you are?” 

“Because you spent five minutes arguing with her. That’s like arguing with a stone wall.”

They turned to each other and laughed in breathy puffs of air. Calista’s eyes growing smaller from the smile on her face. A bit of the weight was taken off her weary soul. She was thankful to him for that.

“She means a lot to you, huh?” he asked, fingers brushing against the letters stamped on his dog-tags, mind split between two places.

“I’ve known her for more than half my life. She’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister,” Calista remarked with fondness, her voice quaky. “I can always count on her to never be too afraid to boss me around –to challenge me or have a normal conversation with me.”

Poe’s shoulder nudged hers, “What do you call this?” his finger circled between them and the dark, empty room.

She smirked, answering truthfully, “A distraction. One I was in dire need of… thank you.” She said earnestly. “It feels good to talk about anything other than war.”

Poe let go of his dog tags, a sliver of sadness pulling his lips back down, “I know the feeling. Vaguely.”

“I’m sorry about your men, on the ship,” she said wholeheartedly after another beat of silence.

Poe smiled with gratitude, but he didn’t look like a man in mourning, he was just shaken, “The apology is appreciated but not necessary. You didn’t kill them.” 

“What were they like?” she asked out of curiosity.

Poe’s jaw tensed before he replied with hollow words, “They were soldiers.”

Footsteps descended down to greet them in their small space.

“Hey hotshot, you down here?” it was Paige. 

“In here Tico,” he called out.

She followed after his voice, knocking into a few things on her way over. The first thing Calista noticed about her was that she wasn’t wearing her woolly hat. She looked much younger with her jet black hair falling in waves to shape her face. Poe was stunned for a moment but shook himself back to reality. The atmosphere had changed.

Paige’s eyes went wide when they met Calista’s, “Oh, uh… Your majesty –Am I allowed to call you that?– I wasn’t expecting to find you down here. I just…” She pointed at Poe. “Came down here looking for him.”

“Calista is fine, titles don’t matter much this far out in space,” she reassured the flustered Resistance soldier. 

Paige let out a breath, fingers running through her much tamer hair, “Good, thought I botched that one for a moment. I’m new to this whole… socialising with royalty thing.”

Paige shuffled awkwardly before tossing a brown jacket at Poe, “I found Zeeke. He got the droid to clean that for you by the way.”

Poe gave a mock salute with two fingers, “Where was he?”

Paige’s eyebrows rose high as she folded her arms, “In the comms room sending a tight beam.” 

“That was the first place I looked,” Poe informed her as he slipped into his Resistance issue jacket. 

“You guys must have gotten your wires crossed,” she huffed with an amused smile.

Poe stood from the ground, but didn’t offer Calista a hand up. Somehow he knew she wanted to stay in the dark a little longer. He nodded curtly at her with a knowing look and started towards Paige.

“You feeling better? No more nausea or vertigo?” his voice grew lighter.

Paige shrugged as she walked beside him, “Won’t lie, the nap helped a bunch. Mostly, I’m excited to get back to Rose and scraping the gunk off the wing thrusters…”

Calista closed her eyes as she took in the encompassing comfort of silence once more. The vibrations of the engine burrowing even deeper into her bones, all the way to her marrow. The vibrations turned comforting, like being held safely inside a womb with the sound of a mother’s heartbeat echoing throughout. Calista’s heavy lids grew heavier and she wasn’t strong enough to keep them open any longer. 

Calista dreamed she was back on Thesmora, feet bare and planted on the white sands of the beach. The water was so clear it reflected the golden sunset back in a spectacular fashion. The warm water rushing up the sand lapped at her toes. She felt unburdened here. Free.

“Calista,” her mother’s voice sounded out from behind her and Calista gasped.

“_Madani_?_” _She whispered in shock as she spun around.

_Mother?_

Lo and behold, there she was, the magnificent Lenora Ordell. Queen of Thesmora. Mother. Wife. Sister. Ruler.

Her smile creased at her face, coily hair styled elegantly, eyes dusted purple –her signature colour. She held out her hands and Calista practically fell into her embrace. When she did, she felt smaller, shorter… younger.

Looking up, her mother seemed to be taller. Calista looked down at her hands and noticed they had shrunk to a child’s size, so had her toes. Her foot stepping in a footprint nearly three times the size of her own.

“You’ve got big shoes to fill,” a familiar masculine voice spoke out.

Calista removed her face from the sweet-scented fabric of her mother’s dress.

“_Farhi_?” she mumbled with joy

_Father?_

Calista turned to the side, eyes catching sight of the handsome and poised looking man who held his shoulders square and had the kindest golden eyes in all the galaxy. Duke Romaine Andrastas Belamon, consort to the queen, father and senator stood proudly before her. He looked barely a day older than when Calista last saw him. All her life, her father had been the older of her parents, but now, in the dream, it was her mother that looked older.

Childish Felix, beautiful, wryly and ill-mannered as he was, sprinted close to Calista’s stubby feet, tripping her onto the sand. Tears streamed down her face as she watched her brother run back to the ocean, her father lecturing him for his bad behaviour.

Lenora knelt down, knees digging into fine sand.

“Always find the courage to stand, my child,” a beautiful smile graced over Lenora's timeless features, her hand reaching down. “For as long as you believe you have the strength to keep going, then you will have the strength to keep going.” 

Calista rubbed at her cheeks, wiping hot tears away as she dusted her trousers and accepted her mother's outstretched hand. The sounds of her brother’s laughter tickling at her ear. 

“Remember Calista, just because you got knocked down, doesn’t mean you belong there.” Lenora helped Calista to her feet, glancing over at the golden shores of the beach, a content look in her eyes. 

As Lenora stepped to the side, a purple water lily grew in the spot where her feet had been planted. It was her coronation flower. The symbol that marked the start of her administration. To her people, purple meant strength in the face of adversity and great willpower –it also meant stubbornness and beauty. The water lily symbolised balance –someone of old faith with an open mind. 

Calista stared back at her own smaller footprint and noticed bare hyphae strands twining in the ground. No flower as yet. No identity as a ruler.

Boots crunched into the sand, clunky armour grinding at the joints. Calista jumped in fear when she saw Versengen encroaching towards her family. His footsteps turned the sand to glass, heat effervescing off the boot prints.

“You look so much like your father,” he repeated.

Calista spun around to look for her father, eyes darting anxiously, but he was gone, so was Felix. Nothing but clouds in the sky and waves on the shore. 

Something warm meandered along the length of her hand and she was shocked to discover it was blood. Calista’s head snapped up, seeing Maligma’s polished, dark nails wrapped around her mother’s throat while a sharp dagger was held close to her mouth. A fresh cut opened her mother’s throat so all she could do was gag voicelessly.

“Did you have a good day at the beach?” Maligma asked with an unhinging smile, her hair and body caught on fire, devouring everything like wildfire.

When she looked back at Versengen, he was inching his helmet off his head. The sun’s glare blinded her momentarily, and in that moment she thought she saw a familiar face hiding underneath the helmet. 

Then a cold touch shivered her out of her dream.

Mokk-Toh hovered over her, his body looking the same; bruised, cut up and in need of rest. He removed his hand from her arm and stood upright, “We’re here princess.”

“Where’s here?” she rubbed her eyes to chase the blurry vision.

“D’Qar.”

_To be continued..._


	8. Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > Biggest thank you to all my readers who've stuck this far and comment as well, you guys are amazing and I appreciate you! ♥
> 
>   
  
**A/N:** It's an understatement when I say that Leia has been a role model of mine since childhood, so writing dialogue for her was surreal, that being said, I wanted to highlight a different aspect of the Resistance that is glossed over in the films and that is desperation, but more importantly it's the fact that the Resistance isn't always this shining beacon of hope that helps all who ask for aid. I wanted to highlight the fact that right now, the Resistance is hobbling on one leg and Leia places survival over niceties.  
  
**Star Wars Legacies Lore:** [Telos IV](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Telos_IV)

  


Poe

The ship groaned and whined as it lowered onto the ground. Thankful that Odhen had stuck the landing, Poe made his way to the cargo bay doors with Paige. Zeeke had offered to help Ton-Ton with making any repairs to the ship, he busied himself by running diagnostics while Odhen nursed a headache in an empty utility closet. Calista and her shadow, Mokk-Toh, were in the med bay with Watts, disconnecting the medical equipment so Koa would be ready for medical transport.

A small landing party of two –Connix and a medical specialist with several droids– were present to greet the Somnambulist and her passengers.

Poe stepped onto the tarmac, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath. The air was dry, hot. His nerves settling for the first time since he left. It was then that he noticed how much he yearned for a hot shower and sleep. 

“Welcome back,” Connix said curtly with her hands held behind her back.

“Lieutenant,” Poe greeted her back.

Paige popped out from behind his shoulder and waved in greeting. Seeing her look so tired and less bright-eyed worried Poe, she seemed like a different person from the one who got stars in her eyes at the mere prospect of flying. It was daunting how much change could occur in less than 48 hours.

“We almost shot you out of the sky, you’re lucky the General recognised this ships transponder call-sign, otherwise you’d be sparks right now,” Connix said in jest. However, her smile faded in a flash when she brought herself to ask, “The Rose One?”

Poe shook his head. Paige simply kept her eyes straight ahead, blocking out Connix’s words by fixating on something in the distance.

Connix understood, there was no need for words.

With an awkward shrug, Poe directed the medical specialist into the ship, “You better get in there doc. Got a wounded soldier in the med bay.”

The medical specialist ushered a droid and a hover bed towards the ship, disappearing into the back of the Somnambulist.

“Pae-Pae!” Rose shouted from far off in the distance, her run was all swinging arms and small-spaced steps. It brought a smile to Paige’s face as she darted to meet her sister halfway.

Connix shuffled on her feet, Poe could tell she was getting a little antsy from not having any data to analyse or communications to receive. 

He stifled a yawn before running his hand over his scruff, “Listen, I’ll leave you to do the pleasantries and the grand tour. I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

Connix nodded with pursed lips and Poe took that as her begrudging way of letting him go off and do his own thing.

Halfway to his quarters, Poe had the wind knocked out of him when BB-8 collided into him with great velocity. Poe bent down to pat his little droid who beeped and shook with delight. An amused chuckle left his throat.

“I missed you too buddy,” Poe smiled. “You been looking after Finn for me?”

BB-8 beeped proudly, head disappearing into his shell before popping back up playfully to whistle a high tune.

“Is that so, huh?” Poe scratched at the droids round midsection. “I’m glad you were here then.”

Poe laughed as he stood up, BB-8 rolling happily beside him as he continued down to his quarters.

The steam from the shower was heavenly. Poe felt his muscles loosen as he rubbed the soot and grease from his scalp. His deflated and frizzy curls came to life from the hydrating waters. The ball joints of his ankles were sore from standing and no matter how many times he rolled them, the discomfort refused to abate.

It felt odd, being on steady ground. For some reason, his body felt tighter, like his lungs were being crushed by gravity. 

Flashes of the Rose One being wiped from existence brought a ringing noise to his ears. No matter how many times he wrung his ears or let water splash inside, the sound didn’t let up. His head wasn’t in the game, it was plagued by doubt and regret and anger, and that was a dangerous headspace to be in.

After towel drying off, he changed into his flight suit, determined to not be grounded on base with the rest of his ghosts. Poe grabbed his dog-tags from the edge of the mirror and went in search of Tico, hoping she’d be up for taking the X-Wing for a spin. He rationalised it as a way of checking on her, making sure she was alright after everything they’d been through, but if he was being honest, it was more for him than it was for her.

“How’s Rose?” he asked Paige as they passed numerous parked X-wings on base.

“She was relieved at first, then she jumped straight into lecturing me about needing to be more careful. She heard about what happened on Takodana, I’m just glad she didn’t know we named the ship after her. I don’t think she’d have liked that given how things turned out,” she replied.

Paige zipped up her borrowed flight suit over her freshly washed clothes. Poe remembered her telling him once that Rose would usually turn into a neat freak whenever she worried, washing clothes and obsessively tidying up rooms, that sort of stuff. 

Poe stopped when he reached Black One, untucking his helmet from under his arm. Paige hadn’t noticed him stop and kept walking further down the assembly line.

“Hey, Tico,” he called after her. “Where you going?”

Paige hooked up a brow, pointing down to where the training ships were clamped, “To the training wings.”

Poe waved her over, tossing her his helmet, “I had something a little more fun in mind.”

Paige’s jaw dropped, her finger pointing at her face, “You’re letting me pilot Black One?”

“If this baby can survive crash landing twice, I think she can survive Paige Tico behind the helm,” Poe smirked. “Besides, I got BB-8, he can fix up anything!” 

Paige regarded him cautiously, “Black One seats… well, one. What about you, thought you wanted to fly?”

He shrugged, “I still have the ignition keys to one of the T-70’s.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed, “What are you cooking up, hotshot?”

His pearly whites were in full view now, “How’s about a little race?”

Paige stared at his helmet, then back at Black One for two straight minutes before she swallowed loudly and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was smiling and confident, “Oh, I don’t know, hotshot… you think you can take me on?”

_There’s the old Paige._

Poe popped his knuckles, “In my sleep, Tico.”

Paige laughed as she wheeled the ladder over to the cockpit of the Black One, “Not while I’m flying this baby.”

The rush. That was what Poe loved most about breaking through the sound barrier. Everything else that followed came second best. Something about going against the rules of nature, of defying gravity, brought a sense of control to his world. He liked being in control. Being his own master, away from everyone else.

Paige handled his X-Wing remarkably. He almost had a tough time keeping up with her in his basic T-70. They traded trash talk and fun anecdotes between flashy flight tricks. During which time a flush of happy chemicals soaked through his brain and he felt euphoria sink in, blocking out everything outside his cramped cockpit.

_This_, he thought. _This is why I love flying._

When they touched down, Paige was practically beaming from the fact she had won the race. Poe didn’t have the heart to tell her he had pulled back his thrusters at the last minute, he figured she needed a win and as selfish as it sounded, he needed her peppy spirit around him.

“You ate dust!” Paige cheered from under his helmet, her cheeks red from grinning like an idiot for so long.

“Just don’t go telling anyone. I have a reputation to keep,” He took off the practice helmet he’d borrowed and tucked it under one arm. 

Paige couldn’t stay still, “Oh, no promises there, hotshot!”

“You got the makings of a great pilot yet, Tico,” he said admirably, slinking his arm around her shoulder comfortably.

“What makes you think I’m not a great pilot already, loser?”

“From ‘hotshot’ to ‘loser’ already? Is that pride I sense?” Poe poked fun at Paige.

BB-8 came rolling down towards them, an informative beep chiming out as the nervous droid vibrated with urgency.

“How long ago?” Poe asked with large eyes.

BB-8 chimed again and quickly dashed back from where he came from.

“By the stars,” Poe sighed and then tossed Paige the helmet as he started jogging after the droid.

“What’s up?” Paige called after him, confused by what happened.

He answered quickly without looking back, “Leia. I’m being summoned.” When his stomach suddenly growled he shouted back, “Save me some grub!”

Poe charged into the meet room where Leia and Calista were in deep talks. His eyes widened, but not from embarrassment. 

Calista stood an arms-length from Leia, an odd tension between them. She was no longer in the bright orange jumpsuit from before. She wore dark, elegant garbs. There was a word a foreign dignitary had used to butter up the General once, Poe had found it to be a pompous attempt at flattery, but right now it seemed very apropos. Resplendent. That was the word. It was the only word worthy enough of describing how Calista looked in that moment. Fresh-faced, less fatigued and… resplendent. 

Poe’s mouth hung the slightest bit open as he tried to pry his eyes away from Calista before she noticed him staring too long. 

Leia smirked in the corner of his eye before clearing her throat and welcoming him to the meet he was undoubtedly late for, “Ah, Commander. Good of you to join us on such _short _notice.”

Poe shook his head and pulled the tan gloves off his fingers before apologising for his tardiness.

Calista

Calista stared at her reflection in the mirror. After an hour-long shower –which she spent most of her time crumpled on the floor like some paralysed creature– she looked like a completely different person. The monochrome clothes lent to her by the General added a layer of elegance she didn’t possess in the orange mechanics overalls.

A buzzer sounded at the door to her guest quarters. It was time. With a flick of a button, the door slid open.

“Your highness,” the woman who had introduced herself as Connix earlier bowed her head. “General Leia sends her apologies for not being able to greet you in person. If you will come with me, I’ll take you to her.”

Calista let the Lieutenant lead the way through crowded hallways and busy hangers. It was different, walking amongst so many nameless faces, seeing no one similar in feature around. She crossed paths with many soldiers, pilots and tacticians of different species, none of which resembled her, and amazingly, they all regarded her with indifference. Occasionally, she’d catch someone lean over to get a better look out of general curiosity, but other than that, no one paid much attention to her. She was a stranger here and that was something both new and exhilarating.

To add to her growing list of new experiences, It was thrilling to be able to walk in a crowded station without a guardian stuck to her shoulder. And as mean as the thought was, she could only describe this new feeling as having a benign tumour surgically removed.

The thought of surgical implements and growths on the body made her think of Koa in that white gown on a medical bed with several droids and medical specialists hovering over her. Her cauterised stump being reopened so they could attach the receptors of a bionic arm to her nerves.

Calista shuddered.

_I should probably inform her mother about what happened._

The CC was bustling with life. Resistance soldiers moved about like pieces on a tactical map. Calista found herself breathing easier when Connix directed her to a private room in the back. 

Surrounded by glowing blue light, General Leia stood looking over a holo-map of the galaxy. She looked…powerful. With rings on her fingers, a regal necklace around her neck and a charcoal grey coloured suit, Leia had found a way to blend authoritative with sophisticated easily. And despite the grey hairs, wrinkles and age lines, Leia looked exactly how Calista had pictured her. Standing there, in front of one of the many women she had admired in her youth, felt surreal. 

“General Leia,” Connix spoke out, garnering Leia’s attention. “May I introduce Calista of house Ordell, Princess of Thesmora.”

“Ah, you’ve been expected,” Leia said in an even voice, hands open, waiting to be received. “That’ll be all Lieutenant.”

Connix took her leave, closing the door behind her, giving them their much needed privacy in the spacious room. Calista walked towards Leia and placed her hands in hers, trying her hardest to remain as composed as the General in front of her. 

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” Calista said when they released each other’s hands.

Leia smiled before taking a seat and switching off the map projector so that there was no distracting artificial blue light in the room, “We’ve met before, you and I.”

Calista took the chair Leia gestured towards and asked, “We have?”

Leia hummed fondly, “Indeed. You were but a youngling then. Shy and very astute. Clamouring onto your mother’s protector’s leg for dear life.”

Calista shook her head, “I’m sorry, I do not recall.”

“It’s not surprising, it happened not too long before your father’s passing. He was a good man. A kind man. In fact, he’s the reason your mother even considered coming to the talks with the New Republic when it was nothing more than a dreamer’s brainchild.”

“Thesmora was once in talks to join the New Republic?” Calista was baffled by the revelation.

“It was widely contested by her administration’s Senate Seat, but your mother came nonetheless. She was determined to exhaust all possible futures afforded to her homeworld, whether that meant solidarity with the Senate Seat or unified democracy with the New Republic.”

Calista vaguely remembered what Leia spoke of. She had been young, perhaps too young to have such vivid snapshots of her parents arguing behind closed doors and spending large amounts of time separated from them while under the care of Maligma. It didn’t escape her that these snapshots only became clearer the more Leia talked about that particular point in time. She couldn’t trust her own recollection of events. They were too easily subjected to the narrative drawn out by Leia’s memories.

“Were the two of you close?” Calista blurted out, wanting to know more of her mother’s past.

Leia looked up, searching for the right words when a flat smile came over her lips, “No. Not at all. In fact, we despised each other. We respected each other, of course, but our like-mindedness caused us to butt heads constantly. We were too alike, too stubborn to entertain such notions of friendship.”

Calista wasn’t surprised by that. In her heyday, Lenora was infamously known for being quite the iron-willed leader. It made her a great ruler, but sadly it meant she was not always the most pleasant person to get to know. It was that aspect of her mother’s personality that put a strain on her parent’s marriage, and eventually wore down her father’s health. 

A dry lump formed in the back of her throat, and Leia, somehow noticing her distress despite remaining impassive this entire time, placed a kind hand on Calista’s knee.

A wave of tranquillity dulled her senses and Calista brought herself back to the matter at hand, “I have it under good authority that my mother was in contact with you recently about joining your Resistance.”

Leia cleared her throat, soulful brown eyes shining, “That is correct, but unfortunately, her emissary never arrived at the disclosed meet. It wasn’t long after that news of her… _untimely_ demise reached us.”

_Untimely?_ That word made her nose curl upwards in anger. _She was murdered! _

With a deep breath, Calista reached into her pocket and retrieved the data-chips that once belonged to Mokk-Toh and Senator Kiddé. “I believe this was what she had planned to bring to the negotiation table.” 

Calista inserted the data chips into two readable slots on the terminal. A hologram came to life displaying the diagnostics, make and model and serial numbers of twelve bomber ships, as well as a treaty of conscription for additional troops.

A pleased expression came over Leia’s features. She stood to examine the information projected before her, an impressed sound rattling at her throat. 

“There is one slight problem, however,” Calista added as she pressed on several buttons to switch the display to a set of coordinates leading to an empty sector on a map. “The location of the bomber ships appears to be… nowhere.”

Calista pointed up to the flashing X-marks-the-spot on the map where there was an abundance of nothingness.

Leia placed her fingers to her lips in thought as she stared at the hologram, “That’s because the map you are plotting the coordinates onto is a recent one.”

Calista knit her eyebrows in question.

Leia silently walked towards a shelf filled with old-world ornaments, Rebellion memorabilia, lexicons for several species and historical codices. Her fingers ran across several codices before she pulled one out of the shelf. Having opened the codex, she slid her palm over a sewn-in pouch and pulled out an ancient-looking data-card. She slotted the card into an inlet and waited for the map to be rendered section by section. Unlike most of the standard holograms, this one took on a desaturated greyish-blue tint.

As the map loaded in the background, Leia took the time to explain things, “When the Emperor rose to power, he had several planets and planetoids of great importance wiped from the archives –along with a lot of the ancient histories of the Republic, the Jedi and the Sith. This ensured he would be the only one to retain such valuable knowledge of the galaxy’s secrets. And as we both know, knowledge is power.”

Half of Calista’s face was covered in the greyish-blue glow, turning one of her eyes a darker shade than their usual muddy brown, “How do you know this?”

The same effect cast over half of Leia’s face too, “My brother.”

When the map loaded, Leia entered in the coordinates and the terminal chimed with each press of a button. Following two impatient breaths, an affirming chirp sounded out as the screen displayed in large, block letters: **TELOS**** IV**.

“Telos Four? I’ve never heard of such a planet…” Calista bit her lip as she read through the planet’s astrographical information.

“I believe it was one of the first planets that suffered the full brunt of the Empire’s might before they constructed the Death Star. It’s desolate now. Razed to the ground and erased from history. The perfect hiding place.”

“If it was decimated by the Empire, why bother hiding it?”

“Perhaps it was too important to destroy.” After a brief pause, Leia posited, “Now that we’ve found your missing planet. Shall we commence with the negotiations?”

Calista sat back down with both hands linked together over the polished table, “By your lead, General.”

The hologram switched off and Leia took her seat opposite Calista, a new façade taking over her face. Right in that moment, as Leia crossed her legs at the ankle and kept her chin level, she wasn’t a General with the Resistance, she was a diplomat. 

Calista was uncertain how much time had transpired since they had sat down to discuss logistics, but she was certain it was longer than she would have liked. 

By the skies and sands, Leia was headstrong. She had admitted as much earlier, but Calista was unprepared for just how stubborn she could actually be. When Leia made a decision, she stuck by it. No matter what may. Calista saw much of her mother in her. That likeness of character stung a little, but she still held a great veneration for the General. 

“I am fully on board with trading in those bombers for Resistance aid, but I cannot sign away my men and women to fight in your wars before I’ve even won mine,” Calista spoke low and determined. “I cannot agree to conscription.”

“This isn’t my war. This is _the_ war. Conscription to a side isn’t a choice. It’s inevitable.”

“I will not ask my people to put their lives on the line so soon after losing loved ones to the civil war engulfing my homeworld.”

Leia's voice was firm but compassionate, “I understand the predicament you are in, but to be frank, twelve bomber ships in exchange for a platoon of my best fighters is not nearly as fair a trade as you think. We’re stretched thin as it is. The assault on Starkiller Base drained more resources than we were prepared to lose.”

“Twelve bombers should more than double your flotilla’s offensive capabilities. That’s more than you had this morning.”

“Yes, but those bombers are outdated. They’re slow and barely versatile enough for space combat. Not to mention the fuel expenses or the need for pilots familiar with last-gen ship models. Ships alone won’t cut it… not if you expect the Resistance’s help in liberating your people. The Resistance need’s manpower, now more than ever after the loss of Hosnian Prime.”

“What about a compromise? I deliver the bombers to you and you lend me your best breaching party to free the POWs from Illis. That way, you lose fewer numbers and I won’t be forced to conscript what few sympathisers I have left.”

“I have to look to the future. I have to ensure that we have enough resources and materials to last. Without soldiers I’m afraid that there’s not much in the way of help that I can promise,” Leia sighed heavily, closing her eyes for a prolonged moment. 

Calista chewed on her lip until her incisors left an imprint on her sensitive flesh. There was only one card left to play and she despised herself for even entertaining the thought, “What if I can broker an alliance with the leader of the Flaming Roses?”

Leia showed some interest, “The Outer-Rim spy network?”

“They very same.” Calista tried to internalise her disappointment. “They have ties to the mining union on Thesmora, as well as trade routes and several mercenary groups. Their leader resides on my homeworld. We’ve had… dealings in the past. I’m sure he’s had dealings with the Resistance as well.”

“My advisors aren’t going to be happy with me, but… alright. You get all twelve bomber ships here safely and I will grant you a breaching party to help you free the prisoners on Illis. If you manage to bring the leader of the Flaming Roses to our negotiations, I will reconsider bringing the platoon back to the table.”

Leia extended her hand and Calista shook it in agreement. 

A part of her soul wailed at the prospect of having to get back into bed with Banden Murray. Owing him for one favour was bad enough. Two was a life sentence lived at the end of a blasters barrel. Calista swore that she’d never turn into the kind of leader that compromised her beliefs for the sake of her crown. How childish that sentiment felt now. 

_Is there a line I won’t cross?_ She wondered as a sick knot wound around her gut. Then an even more worrying thought crossed her mind. _Was Odhen right?_

“Lieutenant Connix,” Leia spoke into her comms device. “Relay to Commander Dameron that his presence is required.”

A pregnant pause filled the room for a moment.

“Can I give you some advice that I wish someone would have given me when I was your age?” Leia tilted her head to the side.

“I’d be honoured.”

Leia didn’t manage a smile, but she tried anyway, “Over my many years, I have seen many remarkable things. I’ve seen a rebellion rise, an empire fall and another take its place. I’ve seen the Jedi come back from myth and I’ve seen great atrocities committed by both sides in the name of patriotism. And in all that time, I’ve come to one conclusion. This life, this duty we have as leaders, is neither glamorous nor easy. It takes the truly brave to realise you can't be both a good leader and a strong leader in times of war.”

Calista thought hard on her words, deciding it best to just listen rather than intervene.

Leia continued, her voice soft, “Good leaders are adored by their subjects. Strong leaders are revered by their enemies and respected by their allies. Only one of these wins wars.” Her long, darkly painted nails pointed to the data-chips slotted in the terminal. “That is the starting point of your crucible. Use it to determine what kind of leader you _need _to be and whether or not that’s the kind of leader you _want _to be."

Poe charged into the room, chasing away the tension that had befallen the enclosed space. Upon seeing the both of them, his eyes widened, lips parting slightly. Calista paid no mind to his reaction, her thoughts too distracted by Odhen’s speech on Port Hanoi clashing violently with the one Leia had just given her.

Leia smirked, finding something amusing in his reaction.

With the clearing of her throat, Leia greeted the tardy pilot, “Ah, Commander. Good of you to join us on such _short _notice.”

Poe shook his head, removing his eyes from Calista as he pulled the tan gloves of his fingers, “I apologise. I was indisposed.” 

“Mission briefs?” Leia inquired.

“Flight tests actually,” he sounded too confident with his speedy reply.

Leia’s brow rose a millimetre, “I need you to accompany the princess to Telos Four. Take a skeleton crew of pilots trained in handling bombers and a refuelling ship with you.”

Poe opened his mouth and then closed it again, a furrow forming on his brow. He lingered for too long without saying anything. 

“Speak your mind Poe,” Leia encouraged him.

Poe ruffled his hair and sighed, “I’m not comfortable being away from base so soon after I just got back. We have no idea when or where the First Order is going to retaliate. I should be here, with my squadron, not on some mission that takes me to a planet I’ve only heard whispers about.” 

“Your reluctance is noted Commander, but I need someone I can trust on this mission. These are my orders.” Leia concluded their conversation.

Poe’s head hung low, hands on his hips. He was biting back from making any further arguments. With a rigid nod, Poe accepted Leia’s orders and stormed out of the room.

“Hot blooded, that one,” Leia remarked as she watched Poe march away in strides. “I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble getting here.”

Calista felt her cheek pinch on her mouth, a playful smirk fighting through her blank-faced political mask, “Hardly.”

As Calista respectfully excused herself from Leia’s office, she caught sight of Connix staring over a radar screen. Just the person she was looking for.

“Zoom in here,” Connix ordered the technician at the helm of the radar terminal.

He did as she asked and pointed out, “See, nothing but debris. Whatever comms chatter you picked up must be interference or refracted tight beam signals.”

Connix’s jaw clenched, she wasn’t satisfied by that deduction. She pulled out her datapad and pressed a few keys. The technician tapped his fingers on the terminal, he was getting agitated. 

“Run another scan,” she told him. When he huffed she further elaborated, “It’s just to be thorough. Don’t want to discover the Somnambulist was followed here and we didn’t do as protocol dictates.”

Calista saw her opening when Connix straightened up from over the technician's shoulder and made her way to her own terminal.

“Lieutenant Connix?” She asked.

“That’s me,” she answered without looking away from her datapad.

“You’re head of communications, is that right?”

“One and the same. What can I do for you?” 

“I need to send a secure data-packet to a woman named Paikeia Kiddé, she was last seen somewhere on Naboo… I also need to open a secure line to a pod-racing establishment on Thesmora. Think you can manage that?”

Connix turned around, relaxing her face to look more professional upon being eye to eye with Calista, “I can try, your highness.”

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What to be more eco-conscious and don't know where to start? Find out the extent of your [Carbon Footprint](https://www.footprintcalculator.org/).  
Frequent flyer? Find out about what [Carbon Tax](https://www.c2es.org/content/carbon-tax-basics/) is and how you can make a small difference.


	9. Cicatrized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a lot of old wounds coming to the foreground and some new. This chapter is more about unravelling secrets and coming to terms with new, harsher realities. I've also grown to love Zeeke immensely and I don't care if I'm shoe-horning him in, he's the sweetest boy and having him be there for Koa was a way to subvert the trope that strangers can't be empathetic. I promise we'll have more interactions between Poe and Cali in the next chapters to come.
> 
> _No links this chapter, but I'd love to know what you guys think about the series so far. ___

Banden

The smell of spice and hooch filled his senses as Banden left the lower quarters of his gambling establishment. The merry laughs and slurred words of his regulars were becoming too loud for his busy mind to sift through.

Emory, his tough-skinned head of security led the way back to his offices. It wasn’t a necessity for her to be by his side, but with Maligma loosening the ties around her militia, violence between thug and lawman had increased exponentially. Emory was there as a scare tactic and because she worried too much for a ruffian. Underneath that heavily tattooed face of hers was a woman who took pride in her job, even if it entailed handling the security detail of a highly detested mobster in the eyes of the law. She saw him the same way the people saw him and they sung a different tune. They all painted him up to be an everyman kind of man. That sort of praise had its benefits –for one, it kept his business running while the civil war marched on in the background.

There was a snippet of truth to that version of him, that everyman’s man. At least he tried to keep that version of himself alive for as long as possible.

Banden’s droid, Cory, shuffled into his office unannounced once Emory made her exit. The annoying grind of its joints pestered Banden’s ears.

“What is it, Cory?”

The droid went stiff and then retrieved a data chip from one of its hidden compartments, “The intel you requested on the new CIC of the Garrison, boss.”

Banden sighed and then waved the droid over, hand outstretched expectantly.

Cory dropped the data chip and shuffled back out of the stuffy office.

When he was alone again, Banden stared at the little chip for a long while, pondering whether he should poke this particular rancor. For some reason, the tattoo on his chest began to itch but he refrained from scratching. He knew it was psychosomatic. Just a ghost letting him know he wasn’t alone, even in the seclusion of his locked office.

A beeping noise disturbed his train of thought. Thankful for the interruption, he glanced over at the transmission call signal and grinned. He accepted the transmission with enthusiasm.

“Well, well. I must say, princess, being a fugitive becomes you,” he said.

Calista huffed, lacing her hands together in an attempt to keep her wits about her. Banden had gotten under her skin before she’d had the chance to speak. This was good. This meant there was a string attached to this call.

“Murray,” she said dryly, glaring with murderous intent.

The way her eyes narrowed and her cheeks were sucked in, Banden saw a bit of Maligma in her features.

He reached for his pipe and lit it, “What can I do for you?”

Koa

Koa was shocked to consciousness by a jolt travelling from her fingers to her brain. She couldn’t move or speak or open her eyes right away, but she could hear. By the animated sounds of a debate being had in her room, she wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse just yet.

“I’m telling you, Kashmyre Düne would be able to take on Boba Fett any day of the week. I’d be willing to bet my last credit on it,” a bright voice spoke in exasperation.

_Is that Zeeke? _She wondered.

Faster than a pod-racer, argumentative Jawaese shot off in reply.

_That’s obviously Ton-Ton._

“Sure Boba Fett wasn’t a joke but he still wasn’t anything special. Düne was a member of the _Death Watch_! He lived on Ankhural, that place is no paradise. Trust me, he’s the better merc.” The words were spoken with admiration, as though Düne was some sort of childhood idol.

A mocking tone was mixed in with the next Jawaese-filled sentence as the scuffling sound of card shuffles licked at Koa’s ears.

“Of course I know my Mandalorian lore. You think I don’t have facts to back up my claims?” A scoff trickled out. “Düne had one of the most frightening ships in all the galaxy! You mention _Soren’s Blade_ in any cantina worth its spice and I guarantee you at least half the bar will know of the ship and who it belonged to. _And _it was rumoured that Düne killed one of the Empire’s most feared Intelligence officers before his disappearance. That’s no easy task.”

The argument went on in the background. Koa was a little annoyed at the fact she only understood one side of the conversation. It didn’t matter to her much anyway, she had more internalised issues to worry over.

Her mouth tasted like metal. It wasn’t the same alkaline taste as blood, this one was closer to cobalt or titanium perhaps. As she ran her tongue across her teeth she felt a cold, hard substance fused into a tooth. The sensation was like running her tongue over a thin metal snake. It felt odd, but not as odd as her arm.

Her left arm was heavy, heavier than normal. Her nerves felt like they were frayed, sizzling with electricity. She thought to move her hand and at the simple idea it moved, barely, but with that perfectly normal action came an incredibly unnatural pain. Her brain jolted from misfiring neurons and a migraine settled on her temple as she croaked out a gasp.

Koa thanked the gods her eyes were still closed because had she been staring up into the light that she knew was shining over her face, the migraine assaulting her senses would have hit ten times harder.

She let out a raspy sound and realised her throat was dry.

“I think she’s waking up,” Zeeke said softly.

Ton-Ton whispered something as though they hadn’t already been causing quite the disturbance a few seconds ago.

“Water,” she whispered as she tried to pull her eyelids back.

Her facial muscles were numb, moving sluggishly from the cocktail of drugs being pumped into her system through a vein. She was surprised that the drugs were strong enough to numb her body but not strong enough to ease the small shocks of lightning travelling up her arm.

With one eye halfway pried open, Koa got a better picture of her surroundings. The med bay was spacious. Its walls were whiter than the tiny planet of Hoth she had seen from the station window they had docked at after leaving Thesmora.

“Easy there,” Zeeke laughed awkwardly as he helped Koa adjust her bed upright.

He handed her a plastic cup of ice. When she tried to move her left arm to accept the cup, more lightning shot through her and this time she winced. She looked over at her arm and had the air knocked out of her lungs.

Half flesh, half metal and all wrong. The artificial prosthetic was larger than her other arm, made of a versatile carbon material that emphasised durability over aesthetics and kept sending charges through her overstimulated sensory nerve endings. In short, it was ugly and alien to her body.

The flesh which joined her two halves was scarred and had purple trauma scars that resembled Lichtenberg marks travelling up to her shoulder and further. From the throb in the back of her neck and lower half of her cranium, Koa was certain those scars reached all the way from her triceps to the lymph nodes in her neck.

She felt raw. Raw and… different.

Zeeke didn’t try to help her bring the cup to her mouth, for which she was grateful, she didn’t need or want to be babied. Once she managed to bring the cup to her chapped lips, Koa decided to suck on the cubes instead of chewing them. The metal snake on her tooth made her paranoid that if it cracked apart so would she.

“Where…” she rasped and then swallowed a large cube of ice to ease the soreness. “Where are we?”

“Resistance base. On D’Qar.” Zeeke said as he pulled the makeshift sitting area he and Ton-Ton had rigged up closer to her bed. 

A set of cards and dice littered the flat surface of the table. On the centre was a pathetic pile of credits barely enough to afford a day’s ration of food on a skeevy spaceport. By the looks of it, they had been gambling to pass the time.

_How long have they been in my room?_

Koa adjusted her spine until she felt more comfortable, “Calista… Is the princess—?”

Zeeke started shuffling the deck of unused cards and Ton-Ton waved his hands in the air with impatience.

“…Is she safe?” Koa finally finished.

Zeeke nodded as he dealt the cards, “Yeah, she’s with the General now, discussing terms. The scary guy who’s always with you is also alright. He’s in another room getting his shoulder and ankles examined. I think he actually asked the doc to dislocate them just so they could be set right.” He shuddered. “I watched them reset his shoulder. Didn’t flinch. He looked bored actually. Maybe tired. I can never tell what he’s thinking to be honest. Scary guy that.”

Koa failed to fully let out a laugh, it seemed whistling exhales was the best she could do right now. Her screaming must have damaged her vocal cords slightly.

Zeeke’s eyes glossed over for a moment, his presence stolen from the med bay to another place that neither Koa nor Ton-Ton could follow, “He kinda reminds me of my brother. Acting like he’s got the weight of the galaxy dangling over his head, just waiting for the rope to snap.”

There was a bleak silence in the room as Zeeke kept shuffling the cards like a robot. Ton-Ton tried to kick him with his short feet but they didn’t reach. Koa softly cleared her throat to bring Zeeke back to the present moment. It worked.

“Oh, hah, sorry. I… uh, zoned out there didn’t I?” Zeeke ducked his head away from the light so his features could be obscured.

“What are you guys playing?” Koa asked as she watched Zeeke and Ton-Ton lay out several cards.

“You’ve never played sabacc?” he asked.

Koa tried to shake her head, “No.”

“I’ll teach you,” Zeeke smiled like a kid and wiped all the progress of his current game by sweeping up all the cards and reshuffling them all over again.

Ton-Ton tried to hit him with his short arms but missed. Vexed, the little guy hopped off his chair, shouted some choice words and left the room.

Zeeke started delving into the logistics of the game and its rules. The calm enthusiasm of his voice distracted Koa from the lightning shocks in her arm and she felt relieved for the pleasant distraction.

“_Manoloa_,” she said gratefully in her native tongue once Zeeke had finished explaining everything.

Zeeke’s ocean coloured eyes lit up, “What does that mean?”

“I don’t think there is a word for it in Common. I suppose the closest thing would be ‘Much gratitude’.”

“Oh,” he said as he placed the deck of cards on the flat surface, ready to begin the first round. “In that case, _you’re welcome_.”

Odhen

After his cold and dissatisfying shower in the cramped stalls on the Somnambulist, Odhen busied himself by continuing to work over the repairs Zeeke and Ton-Ton had abandoned him with after they heard Koa was out of surgery.

The day was hot and he sweat through his newly cleaned shirt faster than a blind man in a blaster duel.

An exposed wire came in contact with his screwdriver and he hissed and kicked the electrical panel in frustration.

“Hey trashcan, pass me some conductive tape will ya?” he held out a hand at Watts.

The droid did not take kindly to being called a trashcan, “If I had legs I know just where I’d shove them.”

“Remind me to tell Ton-Ton to inhibit your freewill functions,” Odhen bit back.

The droid slammed the tape into Odhen’s palm.

Odhen grumbled like a brooding old man, “Ow! Damn droid! Stupid Ship! Hot planet!”

Ton-Ton came waddling close to the open side panel Odhen was working under. The tiny Jawa kept complaining about how Zeeke had scrapped a game of sabacc and robbed Ton-Ton of his winning streak.

Odhen sighed and kept his head firmly stuck under the open hatch to keep the sun out of his eyes and the view of the base out of his sight. He didn’t want to be on this cursed planet let alone close enough to the damned base to see it. It held too many sour memories. Too many failures to count.

“Eh, shut it shorty, the kid’s just a better player. Don’ be a sore loser. It makes you look small,” Odhen said.

“I’m inclined to agree with the Captain, you are a terrible gambler!” Watts chimed in.

Ton-Ton grabbed a spanner for good measure in case one more person dared to say anything else he didn’t want to hear. Everyone grew silent and the Jawa huffed, feeling insulted and dismissed.

Odhen braced for the oncoming whack from Ton-Ton’s spanner, but it never came. After a beat, Ton-Ton said something that garnered his attention from the hole-riddled side panel.

“Who’s here?” he looked at Ton-Ton.

The Jawa and the droid pointed to someone in front of them.

“Captain Odhen Boro, it’s been a while,” the wet, gravelly sounds of Admiral Gial Ackbar’s voice called out from his flank.

Odhen swore low, “I’ll be the hide on a rancors backside.”

The Mon-Calamari laughed, “Is that any way to greet an old friend.”

Odhen turned and greeted him brazenly, “Admiral.”

“We’ve missed you around here. I have to admit, the Resistance feels a little emptier after your departure.”

“It felt plenty empty before I left.”

Gial sighed, looking up at the old ship and Odhen’s beat-up appearance. There was pity in his eyes when he glanced over at all the medals pinned to Odhen’s small jacket. Maybe there was guilt too, but Odhen didn’t care enough to try and decode Gial’s facial tics. He just wanted to be left alone.

Gial placed his webbed fingers on his waist, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, old pal. I should have done more.”

“It’s in the past,” Odhen’s eye twitched. “Leave it there.”

Gial took a step closer, trying to see if Odhen would retreat, when he didn’t, the Mon-Calamari closed the distance between them to put a moist hand on Odhen’s shoulder, “The past can still hurt us, Odhen.”

“I’ve done a pretty good job of forgettin’ so far. So, if you don’ mind, I’d like to get back to fixin’ my ship, _Admiral.” _Odhen shoved off Gial’s hand and went back to taping up the exposed wire.

“I’m sorry for not telling you in person back then.”

“Don’t,” Odhen warned.

“You need to hear this. I regret signing off on letting Hadlen go on that mission so soon after Una’s death. The boy had just lost his mother and I should have known better, but instead, I chose to let Leia send him into battle without telling her my worries. You lost a son because of me and I lost a friend in you because of that,” Gial sighed, his voice burdened by shame. “I won’t ask forgiveness, but I will ask that you forgive yourself… old pal. Come back from this… self-imposed exile. Una wouldn’t want this for you. I know I don’t.”

Odhen tried to ignore Gial’s words by putting razor-sharp focus on wrapping up the exposed wire. Ton-Ton waddled over to the towering Mon-Calamari and lifted his spanner high, intent on slamming it into Gial’s foot. Watts reacted quickly and ripped the spanner out of his master’s hands before it struck. Ton-Ton swore and kicked at his droid.

Gial was startled by the sound of a spanner knocking into the droids metallic hand and Watts covered for Ton-Ton’s foolhardy behaviour, “Terribly sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, he almost tripped.”

Gial sighed and waited for Odhen to give some sort of answer in reply –from the cold shoulder treatment, it didn’t seem likely that any more words would be exchanged.

Odhen had wrapped the same wire over ten times by the time Gial had left. It was the only thing he could think to do to keep his hands from shaking. His weight crushed down on him and Odhen found himself crumbling to the floor with watery eyes, a hand reaching into his small jacket’s pocket to pull out a photograph.

Odhen was younger in the image, cleaner, healthier. His wife Una was a vision in blue. She always looked good in blue. Their son Hadlen was squished between them, a fighter pilot’s helmet covering half his face as he smiled down at the first medal he ever pinned to his jacket –the jacket Odhen had passed on to him after he joined the Resistance. The jacket Odhen was forced to reclaim and wear in memory of his son.

Ton-Ton walked over to his side and placed his small hand on Odhen’s knee. Under the safety of a friendly touch, Odhen began to weep.

Calista

The transmission room held no odour or natural light. The hologram transmission died out and Murray’s smiling face disappeared from view. If Calista hadn’t walked off a ship and onto hard ground, she would have believed she was still in space, in a cold, hard compressed room on a dead ship, floating in deep space.

The demanding expectations were beginning to crush her from the inside out. Her spine was straight and her shoulders set, but on the inside, she felt like a centipede curling in on itself to stay protected. In her mind, she was staring down through weak glass tiles, looking at the centre of a lightless spiral that tunnelled into nothingness. This was her internal spiral and there was only one column keeping her floor from caving in.

“How did you do it?” she spoke to the vast emptiness surrounding her.

An imagined mirage of her mother stood where the hologram of Murray had been, her face blank and unresponsive to Calista’s demands.

Calista looked up at her hallucination, anger squeezing at her chest.

“How?” she shouted, voice ringing out.

When she didn’t get an answer back, Calista stormed out of the room.

The med bay was practically deserted save for a few maintenance droids sweeping up boot dust and sanitizing the floors. The smell of antiseptic pinched at her nose. As she made her way to Koa’s room, she recognised one of the medical specialists talking amongst a crowd. Curious and afraid, she walked over to the doctor and pulled him aside for an update.

“How is she... really?” Calista asked.

The doctor looked at his datapad for any updates he might have missed, “The surgery went as well as could be expected. We retrofitted her with an old model prosthetic. It’s a tricky bit of engineering. That particular model tends to put too much stress on motor nerve receptors. Your friend’s going to have a more difficult time adjusting to her new arm because of her brain physiology. Put simply, until we can get a better replacement limb, she won’t be in any fighting condition. The stress will be too much for her handle. It could risk neural overstimulation or worse. I recommend she stay out of high-stress situations or situations that require a lot of manual labour.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario?”

“If she puts too much strain on that arm… she could risk full paralysis. The neurological effects of the prosthetic could induce a stroke from overexertion. There’s no good alternative here. She should stay on bed rest until we find a better prosthetic.”

“Does she know?”

The doctor sighed, “I’ve had to tell many soldiers and fighters they can’t return to duty because of their injuries. Many don’t have family, and news like this… its best if a familiar face does it.”

Calista could feel the blood rush away from her face, that glass floor caving in slightly, dragging her closer to that spiral. It was her fault Koa was in this predicament, she was grateful that an arm was all that was lost. 

The doctor placed a comforting hand on her elbow, “It was quick thinking cauterizing that wound when you did. You kept her from bleeding out. Now she has a second chance. If you’ll excuse me, I have to see a Mon-Calamari about his tonsillitis.”

Calista nodded at the doctor and continued on her way, feet barely moving.

Koa and Zeeke were smiling behind glass doors, a stark contrast to the sight of Koa screaming and bleeding and then shivering while unconscious. Calista looked down at her hands expecting them to still be slick with blood, they weren’t, but it didn’t stop them from feeling like they were.

Zeeke pulled a card trick and Koa’s eyes went wide with intrigue.

“How’d you learn to do that?” she asked as she tried to copy the same card trick with her right hand.

Zeeke shrugged, his lips tweaking uncomfortable, “Ran with a bad crowd as a kid.”

Calista took a deep breath, it was time to be brave. She walked passed the sliding door and stopped short of the medical bed Koa was laying on. Zeeke tilted his head in greeting, a welcoming smile chasing some of the stale atmospheres away.

“You look better,” Calista smiled at her friend, assessing the extent of the modifications made to her body. The purple bruises traversing through Koa’s veins shook Calista to her core. 

Koa laughed with some struggle, her robotic fingers failing to lift off the bed completely, “It’s barely a scratch.”

Zeeke’s eyebrows rose high as he tried to keep focus on his card shuffling.

“Can you give us a moment, Zeeke?” Calista asked softly.

Zeeke hummed and set the cards down, “Came by at the right time, she was about to rob me of my last credits. I should probably get back to the Somnambulist anyway, she’s in need of a hell of a patch job and I don’t want to leave Odhen and Ton-Ton hanging.”

Zeeke patted Koa’s leg and then jogged out of the room.

Calista sat at the edge of Koa’s bed, fingers too afraid to touch the metal casing of her new arm. 

“I hear you met with the General,” Koa said with interest.

“Indeed.”

“And did she agree to help us?”

“Not without some difficulty on my part, but she agreed to certain terms.”

Koa frowned, her good hand tugging at the blanket draped over her in an effort to sit up more, “What does that mean?”

Calista sighed, “It means I’m going to Telos Four with Poe and a small Resistance company.”

“Something else is bothering you, I can sense it…” Koa tried to move her robotic arm out of habit, but the sound of live electricity caused her to lock her jaw and burrow her palm into the pressure point between the flesh and whole shoulder blade and the purple and frayed skin.

Anger struck hot at the back of Calista’s eyes and she had to refrain from moving or breathing in fear she’d lose the last column of sanity she had left. She could practically picture the sturdy, chipped column toppling over, allowing the glass floor of her inner mind to sink from under her feet and send her tumbling into that dark and endless spiral.

Calista cleared her throat and looked Koa in the eye, “I spoke with your doctor…”

Koa could tell what Calista was getting at, her flesh fingers closed in a fist as she spoke out confidently, “I’m fine.”

Calista glanced down at the purple markings on Koa’s skin, “You don’t look fine.”

“It looks worse than it is.”

“I know the arm is causing you pain. The doctor recommended you stay out of strenuous situations, something to do with the sensory implants not synchronising correctly with your brain. He recommended we wait until a new prosthetic is availa—“

“The arm works fine.”

“The doctor recommended bed rest. After everything you’ve been through, there’s no shame in taking time to heal.”

“I’m _fine_.”

“You don’t have to pretend for me. It’s me. I know you. I know your limits. These past few days have taken their toll. You lost an arm. The last thing you need right now is to be back in the thick of it. You need time. You _need_ to rest.” Calista urged, her hand grabbing ahold of Koa’s closed fist in an effort to make her see reason.

Koa didn’t reciprocate, instead, her eyes narrowed, “Is that an order?”

Calista kept her voice soft, “A suggestion.”

“Then, respectfully, _your highness_,” Koa’s voice grew deeper, the rasp clearing slightly. “I decline the offer to stay behind.”

Calista closed her eyes for a moment before standing from the edge of the bed, “Fine, if that is your wish. We leave as soon as the repairs to the Somnambulist are complete… I should go and check on Mokk-Toh.”

Koa shifted awkwardly under the blanket until her legs were left to dangle on the edge and her body was slumped over, “My body may have changed but my duty has not. I go where you go. That’s all there is to it.”

Calista smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes, “There’s more to it than that. Truthfully, if I lost you… I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You’d know exactly what to do. This war we’re fighting is bigger than any two people. Thesmora is counting on you to liberate her and it’s my duty to ensure you succeed… No matter what.”

Koa’s words were sharp. As unpleasant as it was for Calista to hear them, they needed to be heard. Suddenly, a new column was erected beneath her. Her glass floor becoming reinforced, the spiral descending away from her. Her heart, on the other hand, grew a degree colder.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Calista whispered out in a childishly frightened voice then she made her way down the hallway until she came upon Mokk-Toh’s room. He was having his shoulder examined by a physiotherapy droid. The sound of joints popping made her shiver. Mokk-Toh was stone-faced the entire time.

“Your highness,” Mokk-Toh motioned to get up off the examining table.

Calista held up a hand, “No need for formalities. I came to see how you are doing.”

“I’ll let the expert handle this,” Mokk-Toh pointed at the droid hovering over his shoulder.

The droid finished up the examination and then answered in a mechanical voice, “His contusions have healed nicely. His cuts have cicatrized. A few of his joints have suffered severe trauma, they may never heal as they were before, but all in all, he’s in good fighting shape… for someone his age.”

The droid gathered new garments from a drawer and handed them to Mokk-Toh before going to work over a bacta tank in the background.

“I assume everything is in motion then?” Mokk-Toh asked as he pulled a white shirt over his lean frame.

“It is.”

“You don’t look too thrilled,” he was fastening his arm guards now.

“There’s not much to be thrilled about,” Calista reached for fresh bandages out of Mokk-Toh’s reach and handed them to him.

He started wrapping his ankles for extra pressure, “We’re alive and now we have allies. That’s plenty more than we had yesterday.”

“Is that all there is to it now? Making sure we aren’t worse off now than we were the day before?”

Mokk-Toh stood on crooked ankles, “We endure.”

Calista unfolded a grey cloak that was folded on the table and spread it out so Mokk-Toh could slink his arms through the sleeves, “Koa worries me. I fear her stubbornness is clouding her judgement about her health.”

After tying the robe's belt around his small waist, Mokk-Toh placed his hands on Calista’s shoulders, “Would you like me to talk to her?”

Calista looked up, thinking on his offer. “Yes.”

Mokk-Toh looked over Calista’s face as though he were trying to conjure up someone else from under her skin. There was a fondness to his touch and a warmth to his dark eyes that she’d never often seen from him. His thin lips curled ever so slightly at the edges to form a reminiscent smile.

“I see a lot of your mother’s strength in you,” he said. “You share in her fortitude as well, it’s admirable, but no one is supposed to shoulder what you’re going through alone. That was _her_ shortcoming. She thought she could be a symbol of strength and not lose a part of herself in the process. I watched your mother distance herself from everyone that mattered when things became too much. A lot of her relationships suffered for it. Including her bond with Maligma.”

Mokk-Toh took a pensive breath before continuing, “What I’m trying to say is… don’t be afraid to take a moment to yourself. Let people in. Trust them. Share your burdens. Sometimes a moment of peace can last a lifetime. And peace is a rare commodity these days.”

Calista nodded slowly, letting Mokk-Toh’s words sink in. He seemed sad. Most of the time Calista would see him as a soldier. Always alert and always on guard. But right now, he seemed like any other person on this base and that scared her a bit. It meant that even Mokk-Toh had his limits. His concealed cracks were beginning to surface, and as a result of his candour, Calista now had a third column she could lean on. 

The spiral seemed even further away now.

Mokk-Toh

Mokk-Toh found Koa riffling through compartments and discarded blood-stained clothing in search of something. Her robotic arm joined securely to her bicep was resting against a leather sling wrapped around Koa’s neck and chest area. He thought it looked incompatible.

Koa saw Mokk-Toh’s reflection through the plate glass window that overlooked an assembly line of docked ships gleaming like crystals from the intense sun rays, “I see you’re disarmed. I suppose that means both our swords got left behind on Takodana.”

Koa stopped her search and moved on to tidying up after the mess she had made. It was almost as though she was too afraid of being still.

“Unfortunately so. It does feel odd, being without my weapon,” Mokk-Toh tapped the place where his sword was usually strapped.

“Like losing a limb,” Koa said without thinking and then froze when her robotic fingers twitched, crease lines forming on her forehead as her nostrils grew larger in frustration. “She sent you to check up on me didn’t she?”

Through controlled breaths, Koa was trying to make a fist. The difficulty of such a simple task did not escape Mokk-Toh’s attention.

Koa was struggling to adjust.

Mokk-Toh folded his arms, “I offered to come and talk to you.”

Koa winced, her tongue running over the snaking line of titanium used to fuse her cracked tooth back together, “Like I keep telling everyone, _I’m fine_.”

“I don’t doubt that. After all, you of all people would never be so selfish as to endanger the princess’s life by going into the field with anything less than a hundred percent.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated herself like a broken record.

Mokk-Toh made sure his voice was monotonic, he didn’t want her to assume he was being condescending or argumentative, “You keep saying that.”

She side-eyed him, “Because it’s the truth.”

He looked away from her and out towards the gleaming ships, “Hmm.”

His impassiveness seemed to strike a nerve.

Koa opened up, “If the queen was still alive, can you honestly tell me you would be okay with leaving her side while her life was in danger?”

Mokk-Toh let the silence hover, he wanted her to stew in the uncertainty of whatever emotion caused her to ask that question in the first place.

He rubbed at an old scatter of irregularly spaced out scars that once held hundreds of shrapnel pieces on his thigh. With that old wound thrumming with intent, he knew just what to say, “When I was younger –about your age perhaps– I had passed up the opportunity to become the youngest admiral ever appointed to the Royal Guard because I was afraid that the greater responsibility would deter me from keeping the queen safe. As a Knight-Commander, I would always be by her side and that was all that mattered.”

Koa looked down at Mokk-Toh’s thigh where his nails were digging through his trousers, “I didn’t know this.”

Mokk-Toh’s back curved, an irregular slouch making him lose a few millimetres of height, “Not many do…” he cleared his throat. “Anyway, the promotion went to someone else, someone I trusted deeply and he was good at his job too.”

She placed her palm over the metal chassis of her arm, “But?”

“But I was stubborn and even though he was my superior, he let me keep my stubborn ways. During a diplomatic visit to an Outer-Rim planet, our convoy was ambushed. The admiral had asked me to head the scouting party responsible for spotting any potential threats ahead of time. I refused.”

The memory was so vivid in his mind that he could practically feel the rain and the stickiness of the humid air on his nape from that dreadful day. His heartbeat slow and sluggish like the intervals of the lazy thundering that had boomed across the bluish night sky. He remembered being bewildered by Lenora’s serious expression locked on the treaties laid out on her lap. The thought of her was bitter-sweet. Unconsciously, his nails unclenched from his thigh.

“In my mind, the only logical place for me to be was by Lenor- _the queen’s_ side. The scouting party had been overcome by marauders and we lost more than half of our ground team. I would have died as well, if the admiral hadn’t sacrificed himself,” Mokk-Toh’s voice fluctuated towards the end. The flashing image of lightning striking and metal shards exploding into his skin was upsetting.

Koa took a step towards him, “You couldn’t have known—“

“I knew. I knew the man leading the scouting party wasn’t as skilled as I was. The admiral knew it too. So did Lenora. The point is… everyone knew and no one fought me on my decision. So when the next promotion came around, I took it, because there’s more to protecting the people you’ve sworn to keep safe than just being able to stand beside them,” He looked at Koa.

“This is different.”

“That may be, but if you go through with this knowing what you know now, you have to prepare yourself,” there was a dark edge to his warning.

Koa cocked her head to the side, a threat heard in his words. “For what?”

He turned his whole body to face her, “Whatever consequences may arise.”

Mokk-Toh had said all he came to say, maybe more, he was neither wanted nor needed anymore. With a stiff bow, he started on his way back to his quarters.

Koa stopped him in his tracks with an abrupt question, “What was his name?”

He half turned, “Who?”

“The admiral.”

His eye twitched on reflex, “It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s a ghost of the past. The name died with him.”

Koa walked over to stand in front of him now, she looked to be in a confronting mood, “Is the bounty hunter we faced on Takodana also another ghost of the past?”

Mokk-Toh didn’t have an answer for her nor was he comfortable discussing any matters to do with Versengen, especially not to the woman who just lost her arm to his malice. He could tell she wasn’t satisfied with his silence.

She closed in on him like an interrogator trying to intimidate a thug, respect for her elders be damned. “You know him, don’t you?”

Mokk-Toh kept his answer straightforward and to the point, not wanting to play the game of a thousand questions with a woman running on a sparking fuse, “I know _of_ him.”

Koa looked at the space around his face and then settled on the spot where a plasma bolt from a rifle had burned through his flesh less than a day ago, “No. The two of you share a bond, I sensed it. His technique is similar to yours, like you’re cut from the same cloth. You know who’s really beneath that helmet.”

Mokk-Toh turned stiff, “I don’t know _who_ is really beneath that helmet –if there even is anything left beneath that helmet.”

She bit back a hiss as her robotic fingers moved, “What are you hiding?”

Mokk-Toh stepped around her, “Make sure you’re ready to go by the time the ship is fixed.”

Versengen

Hiding behind the darker side of a moon orbiting D’Qar, Versengen’s black ship purred in stasis. Inside, a trail of luminescent blue liquid led away from the healing chambers to an empty training room.

Versengen stared up at his weapons locker stocked with all manner of primitive weapons. With steady hands, he picked up a long, blunt-edged staff about his height.

His footing was soft and quiet. Like a boatman rowing against rushing waves, he twirled the staff from side to side, interchanging grips and moving with grace and precision. It was a kind of sacred dance, his partner was the rush of air that whined every time his staff moved swift and sure. His muscles uncoiled and relaxed only to clench a second later, his anger turned into an afterthought as the movements of his training technique took over his body with the intimacy of muscle memory.

For now, Versengen was dormant and he would remain dormant for as long as the beacon on the Somnambulist was immobile over D’Qar soil.

But as soon as the signal moved… the hunt would resume.

_To be continued…_


	10. Telos IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we get some building blocks with Calista and Poe's relationship in this chapter. I want to approach this relationship organically so it'll be a bit of a slow burn (as if it hasn't already right?). Anyway, I think you'll all enjoy the next chapter, Poe gets to be a big nerd about old Rebellion ships and Ton-Ton gets to dig around old crash sites like the Jawa he is!
> 
> _ Link to an interesting recycling cause at the end!_

Poe

Poe made his way into the Somnambulist on sluggish feet, it wasn’t because he was tired, it had more to do with the fact he wasn’t completely on board with being sent on a second mission so soon after he got back from the last one. 

The cargo bay was still as packed as before, maybe more so. To the side, Koa and Calista barely made eye contact with each other, their bodies refusing to close in like two magnets of the same pole. In the other corner, leaning his large frame against a panel, face covered in shadow, was Odhen. He was silent, almost freakishly so, as he stared blankly at his feet. Mokk-Toh was sitting in the centre of the bay, legs folded and arms placed palms down on his thighs as he mediated. Poe didn’t bother trying to decode his emotional state, even in his relaxed pose Mokk-Toh was still as rigid as ever.

It was only Paige and Zeeke who seemed to be in good spirits as they helped other Resistance pilots with their hauls. The X-wing race earlier had been a good call considering Paige hadn’t lost that smile of hers since they docked. Zeeke was still an enigma to Poe, the boy always carried that bright spark with him, no matter how bad his day got. Even now, covered in engine grease and cooling fluid staining his green overalls, that toothy smile of his was still stamped to his tired face.

“Hey, Dameron!” Connix shouted from down the tarmac, datapad in hand as usual. “The refueller is all set. Ground Control gave the all-clear. All our pilots are accounted for.”

Poe raised a brow, “Then what’s the problem?”

Connix smiled and pointed at the shaking droid cowering behind her feet, “We found a stowaway.”

BB-8 beeped in a mopey tune, his exoskeleton vibrating with anxiety.

Poe ran a hand through his hair and nodded at Connix, “I’ll handle this.”

Connix pursed her lips and marched off, blaring orders into her comms as she saw to the other ship preparing to disembark.

“Hey buddy,” Poe got down to BB-8’s eye level. “Tryna hitch a ride?”

BB-8 spun around and beeped softly. Poe sighed, a weak smile on his face.

“I know I just got back, but this is the last one pal. I promise. I’m going to be glued to this base for so long you’ll get tired of me when I get back.”

The droid didn’t change his tone and decided to roll himself into Poe’s legs repeatedly.

“Hey,” Poe nudged BB-8. “Finn still needs someone to take care of him while I’m gone. There’s no one I trust more to keep him safe than you.”

BB-8 let out a slightly more cheery tone just as Ton-Ton came waddling over, spanner held clumsily in small hands. The Jawa whispered something in a suspiciously cunning voice and tapped the side of BB-8’s body with his spanner. Whatever it was the Jawa said made BB-8 go on the offensive and he immediately zapped him with his conductive prong. Ton-Ton jumped higher than Poe thought he was capable of reaching and yelped in a shrill voice. Satisfied, BB-8 made his way back to the compound while Ton-Ton continued shouting after the round droid with his fist in the air.

The Jawa looked to Odhen for back-up, presumably, but Odhen just shrugged and let out a deep exhale. “Don’ bite off more than you can chew,” he said snidely. 

Odhen coughed, deep and wet and then scratched at his beard. Poe was remiss to see some of Odhen’s grey hairs fall out at the action. The stout pilot simply sighed when he saw his hairs fly away with the wind. As if that were some warning sign, Odhen pulled his frame off the wall and dragged his feet further into the bowels of the Somnambulist.

Koa, noticing the pilot’s odd behaviour and asked, “What was that about?”

Ton-Ton waved his arms dismissively and followed after the Captain.

Zeeke appeared out from behind an obstructive hatch and translated, “Ton-Ton made a _playful _remark about scrapping the little BB unite. They’re not the most common droids and their unique emotional response chips make them something of a commodity in the right circles. Some scrappers pay top credits for that. Your BB unit didn’t like that. Feisty little guy.” He laughed as he backtracked into the halls of the ship, his fingers spinning a screwdriver like a man on a mission. “Hey, it looks almost like new!” He pointed at Poe’s jacket.

Poe looked down at the spot that was once covered in blood and remembered Zeeke was to thank for salvaging the jacket’s original dusty brown colour, “Thanks for that by the way, I was going to handle it myself but I was just…“

“Overwhelmed?” Zeeke asked.

Poe hummed in response.

“Don’t sweat it, besides, it’s this guy you should be thanking,” Zeeke winked at Watts who was silently parked next to the tarp covering the stacked crates of cargo. 

If a droid could blush, Poe imagined that’s exactly what Watts would be doing right now, “I am most flattered, Master Zeeke.”

Calista brightened up with a small smile of her own, her eyes watching the spinning movements of BB-8’s chassis, “Unique droid.”

It may have just been an observation, Poe couldn’t really tell, but the way his ears picked up on it, it sounded like a term of endearment.

“That he is,” Poe smiled back, digging his hands into his jacket's pockets. 

Take off was, surprisingly, without any suspicious noises or sneaky turbulence, the repairs must have done miracles. Poe decided to go and take a moment to be by himself and watch the stars rain across the observation deck while they were in hyperspeed. 

Calista was seated alone on the edge of the sill that surrounded the observation screen. Her knees were pressed to her chest as she stared out with large eyes –not filled by amazement or wonder, just large in the sense that they were more open than he’d ever seen them. She seemed so small, curled up into herself, hair let loose to skirt across her lower back. She looked like someone who yearned for solitude, just like the last time he came upon her curled up frame alone in the dark.

Even though Poe was quieter than a mouse, Calista turned to him as if she knew he had been standing there the whole time.

“I find the stars calming… makes everything seem so small in comparison,” she offered her thoughts freely. Maybe she didn’t want to be alone after all. 

Poe took that as an invitation to sit opposite her and look out at the stars, “That’s one way of looking at things.”

She looked at him from behind her knees, “You don’t agree?”

He pursed his lips, “No. Not really. The smallest I ever feel is when I’m stuck on the ground looking up.”

“You chose the right path then. Being a pilot must be exhilarating.”

Poe’s thumbs instinctively sought after his dog-tags, “I can’t picture my life any different. My mother was a pilot. I guess you could say it’s in my blood.”

“I’m quite envious of that.”

Poe arched a brow. Calista’s mouth pulled up at the corner.

“Your certainty,” she elaborated. “I’m not sure I’d know what I’d be if I wasn’t born into… _this._” She gestured to everything around her.

Poe relaxed his back against the wall panel and propped one leg up so he could rest his elbow on his knee, “I’m pretty sure that’s how anyone would feel in your position.”

“You think so?”

“You think Leia doesn’t have her doubts from time to time? It comes with the territory, that’s why I’m not a fan of rank and politics. Makes things too complicated. I’m a pilot. I fly. I leave the decision making of ‘where to’ and ‘why’ to the higher-ups.”

Calista huffed in amusement, “That’s not entirely true. If you were a simple soldier you wouldn’t have questioned Leia’s orders earlier.”

Poe drummed his thumb on the glass, lips curling upwards, “Maybe I’m not the best at blindly following orders, _but _I’m more comfortable with voicing my concerns than giving out orders for others to worry over. I don’t think I’d make a good leader. They’re supposed to lead by example, the only example I lead by is recklessness… according to Leia.”

“You won’t know till you try,” she leaned her head on the thick glass, the cascading starlight making her golden skin glow radiantly. 

“See, you have nothing to be uncertain about. You’re already starting to sound like a diplomat.”

“Being called a diplomat is rarely a compliment.”

“We can make an exception to the rule just this once,” he winked mischievously. 

Calista gave out an airy laugh. Her eyes growing smaller from the action. Poe could see the red mark on her cornea from where the splinter had embedded itself. It was less pronounced but still raw.

Poe felt an itch in his own eye, “How’s the eye?” 

She hummed, uncertain as to what he was talking about and then quickly remembered when her fingers reached up to ghost close to her lower eyelid. “Oh, I… I can still see out of it so all must be well.”

Watching the stars rush past, Poe became curious as to what lay beyond, from planets to peoples to suns. The adventurer in him wanted to know more about where Calista came from. “Your homeworld is in the Outer-Rim isn’t it?”

She nodded, “Technically it orbits between the Outer-Rim and the Western Reaches.”

“What’s it like?” Poe’s eyes gleamed with interest.

Calista’s finger graced over a droplet of condensation seeping out of one the air filters dripping overhead. The cold bead of water sparkled from the flashing-white streaking outside the ship. She considered it for a moment, goosebumps trailing up her arm and then pressed it to the glass to draw a squiggly symbol. 

“The summers are warm and dry. On clear days, the sun hits the ocean waters at just the right angle that you’d think you were staring at a lake made of pure crystal. The water is _so _clear you can see the sky reflected perfectly. The winters are wet but never too cold, unless you live with the mountain tribes –that’s the only place that gets snow.” Calista painted such a perfect picture that Poe could practically see what he knew she was seeing in her mind. 

Poe had never once spoken of a place so fondly, never once been so intrinsically tied to any one thing that his description of it could bring it alive for anyone else. The only exception being flying, but even then, it sounded more technical in his head as he tried to weave tales of what it felt like being in a cockpit. That was a notion that only experience could truly capture.

A look of longing overcame Calista’s features as she took a slow breath, “Thesmora is… Thesmora is home.” She looked up at him and Poe felt an inkling of a new feeling sizzle down from his neck. It was warm and quite lovely, but also excitingly different. “What was your homeworld like?”

“Not as beautiful as yours sounds, I’ll tell you that.” He smirked with a pang of sadness.

If Calista were close enough, she’d probably nudge him, she settled for a scoff instead, “Tell me.”

“Home for me is pretty much wherever the Resistance sets roots. But I was born on Yavin Four.”

“I’ve heard stories about how magnificent the Great Temple on Yavin Four is… Always wanted to see it in person.”

“It's definitely something alright. Nothing quite like seeing it with your own eyes. Maybe I’ll take you some time,” Poe said easily.

Calista held his gaze softly for a second before carrying on, “And your family?”

“My folks were a part of the Rebellion. Like I said, mum was a pilot so flying is in my blood. In fact, I can remember the exact day my mother took me up in her A-wing, I was six and it was one of the best days of my life –Now this was the RZ-1 model, which is way different than the early R-22's. I mean those were basically just stunt flyers, y'know?” Calista frowned with little knowledge of ship make and models and Poe just shook the smile from his face. “Anyway, my dad was a bootstraps kinda guy –a Pathfinder. They… were never around much so my grandfather is the one who basically raised me when they were away.”

“You must have missed them.” The waver in her voice let Poe know she knew exactly what that felt like.

“I did, but… don’t all kids?”

A muscle on Calista’s face tweaked after he said that, a shiver shook through her. Poe was about to ask what was wrong when she chose to open up on her own.

“My brother used to cry whenever my mother would leave on diplomatic missions. He was inseparable from her side. I used to spend most nights reading to him when he was beside himself,” Calista sniffled quietly. “He would always worry something would happen to her when she was away from home. I’m glad I had him to worry over so I wouldn’t have to think about that too.”

“He must have taken the news of your mother’s death very hard.” Poe let go of his dog-tags and the clutter of the metal knocking against his collar bone was hollow.

“To be honest, I don’t think he cares anymore. I haven’t seen him in over five years.”

“What happened?”

“He… he just stopped caring. Slowly, day by day, one diplomatic meeting after the other, one overlooked achievement, one missed birthday… there were just too many _one’s_. After a while, he just shut it all off. The worst part is… I don’t blame him for leaving, I don’t even resent him for it. I envy him. He was a prince born to never be king. Right now I’d give anything to be in his shoes.” 

Poe had the urge to try and comfort her, but he feared his actions would be too hasty, too unfounded, so he simply kept his sights trained on the dew drops sliding down the glass. “Have you spoken to him at all?”

Calista rubbed her palm across her nose, “Last I heard he was on Canto Bight with all the other nobility with too much time and money on their hands.”

They sat in silence for a while before Calista brought up her own training as an amateur pilot in the Royal Academy and how she used to hate flying in her early years. From there, their conversation flowed smooth and easy, a breath of fresh air from the same old circulated conversation pieces they’d been sifting through for the few days they’d known one another. 

Zeeke

“I got it!” Zeeke cheered as he lifted his body out of the small hole and tossed the last fuel cell into the red trolley where Watts was mounted.

“Excellent, Master Ton-Ton will be most impressed,” Watts said joyfully, the old ball and socket joints attaching his arms to his torso groaned from being rotated vigorously.

Zeeke smelled foul. He felt grungy too. But that was to be expected after spending so long rifling through the trash shoot. He wasn’t complaining though. In his youth, he’d had much less glamourous jobs, and even when his jobs were glamorous, they often left him feeling as rotten as he smelled on the inside. This was better. At least this filth could be washed away. It didn’t stain.

Paige made her way over to him, nose scrunched up in irritation.

Zeeke’s face lit up when he saw a familiar face, “Paige! Come to help a poor grease grunt out?”

“Not even if my life depended on it!” She retorted with a skip in her step.

Zeeke wiped down any slime, grease or liquid from his body with a rag he kept in his pocket. He looked into a shiny metal surface and noticed several freckles looking prominently darker from the coal dust. “Bummer. What can I do for you?”

Paige plopped down next to his half-submerged body and pulled out a ration bar. “I was bored. Thought of bothering Poe but he’s… occupied. And I didn’t want to stay in the lower decks because that tall, scowly guy is doing some weird training thing with a staff. It felt… disrespectful to just sit around and gawk at a guy rowing through invisible waves.”

“Oh, Mokk-Toh, yeah. I caught a glimpse of that too. Looked… _intricate._”

“That’s a word for it. Why are you in the trash shoot?” Paige asked, chomping down on the bar.

Zeeke pulled himself out of the shoot and dropped the last of the spare parts he’d found into Watts’s trolley, “I’m not in it anymore.” He then turned his rag inside out and worked at the marks on his neck.

Paige rolled her eyes, “That’s not helping much you know, you still stink.”

Zeeke smiled, “I know, but Ton-Ton warned me beforehand that I probably wouldn’t be able to use the showers. One of the ship's components in the water recycler is still damaged and putting any strain on the pipes may cause a deviation and the ship’s fuel line could overheat and explode.” 

“What the hell kind of ship is this?” Paige asked, holding herself cautiously as she was now more aware of all the leaky pipes and open panels with exposed wiring. She gulped, wrapping her hand around her pendant.

Watts and Zeeke answered simultaneously, “An old one.”

“Actually, fun fact, this exact model is the last working type L-Class starship of this design. It is a Mandalorian make that was popular during the years preceding the first rebellion. If I am not mistaken, I believe a famed mercenary known as the _Basilisk of Ankhural_ owned a ship of a similar make. It was called Soren’s Blade. Very fast, very dangerous, very quiet,” Watts added, savouring his chance to be useful beyond being a rocket launchers stand.

“Oh, this ship is dangerous alright, just not in the manner that counts,” Paige looked around at all the low hanging ceiling cables and dips in the floor.

Zeeke chimed in excitedly, ignoring Paige’s comment, “I know all about that actually. Me and Ton-Ton got into a bit of a tiff about which bounty hunter was better once I brought up the Somnambulist’s similarities to Soren’s Blade. I wanted to be just like Kashmyre Düne when I was a kid.”

Paige choked on her bar, “_You, _adorable, trash rummaging mechanic, Zeeke Cors, wanted to be a _bounty hunter_?”

“People change,” He shrugged off her mocking tone with a flick of his filthy rag and Paige ducked away from it with a snorty laugh.

“Seriously though, _why_ are you rummaging through the trash shoot? And why am I only able to smell you if the hatch is open?” Paige scrunched her nose a second time in disapproval.

“It’s for a side project Ton-Ton and I are working on. We heard about Koa’s replacement limb not being ideal so we’re planning on making a more… versatile one for someone of her skills. And the reason you can’t smell anything coming off the trash shoot is because of the xeron.”

“Xeron?”

“It’s a gas much denser than air used to layer the hatches of most trash shoots. It’s also highly flammable that way all waste can be incinerated once the ship offloads it in space. An old design flaw. Most regulation starships don’t use xeron anymore. Pretty sure that’s also why there aren’t many ships like this one left in the galaxy too.”

Paige inched away from the open hatch, more aware of the odd green haze that floated below the open hatch.

As Zeeke motioned to close the hatch, his sleeve got caught on an outward sticking nail and hooked over a seam, undoing the thread with a sharp tearing noise.

“Oh, poodoo!” Zeeke wined as he unhooked the unwound seam. “Hey Paige, mind reaching in the tool kit and getting out a lighter so I can burn the thread off. Pulling will just make it worse.”

Paige gulped, “You want to use a lighter next to an open, _flammable _hatch?”

Zeeke tsked, “The gas is too dense to reach us. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she said shakily as she reached into the trolley and stood close to Zeeke’s rather long arms. The exposed flame burned at the long thread on his torn overalls.

“Just don’t drop it,” he teased.

Right then, the ship was forced out of hyperspeed without any pre-warning signs and Paige’s fingers fumbled with the lighter. The open flame was seconds away from coming into contact with the green mist just when Zeeke kicked the lighter towards a wall where it slammed closed and the fire died out. Paige looked up at him with buggy eyes and let out a relieved laugh.

“You are one lucky grease grunt!” She wrapped him in a wide and sudden hug. 

“So they keep telling me,” Zeeke sighed, staring at the lighter. That was the fifth near accident he’d had since going aboard the Rose One. Zeeke was starting to feel worried.

“Eugh!” She pulled away almost as quickly. “You still stink though.”

Out of a doorway, Odhen coughed and spoke at them with disinterest, “Call everyone to the cockpit, there’s something you should all see.”

“Right away,” Zeeke said after he sealed the hatch with a kick of his boot.

When Odhen disappeared, Paige leaned close to whisper, “I can’t believe he’s the same Odhen Boro who was a squadron leader in the Rebellion… How did you recognise him so quickly on Takodana? You were barely in the room with him for a second and you just knew?”

Zeeke poked his finger at his temple, “Like I said, steel trap. I have a thing for faces and numbers. And names. And fixing things. You get the idea.”

“Still,” Paige pulled her brows together. “The last thing I’d think when I see him is ‘war hero’.” 

Zeeke licked his chapped lips, “Time isn’t kind to everyone.”

“And to think that’s the same guy who trained over half the men on my old company. They used to talk about him like he was… _more_. Did you try talking to him about it?”

“Nah, he shut me down before I even got the chance to introduce myself. Guess he doesn’t like talking about his time as a Rebel. I wouldn’t bring it up.” Zeeke sniffed at his pits and then grimaced. “Hey, you mind telling the others Odhen needs them. I’m going to scavenge for something cleaner.”

“No worries. I’m not too fond of standing over a flammable hatch anyway.” Paige made her way down the small hallway. 

Zeeke groaned, “It’s sealed.”

Koa

Paige didn’t notice Koa lurking in the dark corner she had slinked into as she jogged past her to get to the observation room. After some quick words and a subtle pause, she and Poe were the first to exit the room and head in the direction Paige had originally come from. Calista took a few seconds longer to emerge. When she did, she instantly knew where Koa had been hiding away.

“How long have you been listening?” Calista asked in an annoyingly calm tone.

Koa was about to clench her jaw but that titanium snake on her tooth stopped her midway, “My job is to not be seen but to see everything. Whatever conversations you have in privacy are still your own.”

Calista pressed her fingers at the apex of her eyes, “If you have something to say, then say it.”

Koa wanted to say many things. She wanted to shout in frustration for being disarmed –both fugitively and literally. She wanted to curse at Versengen and all his kind for being a blight in the galaxy. But right now, for some unfounded reason, she wanted to express her disappointment at the fact her princess was cosying up to an outsider. 

Koa settled for a vague answer, “I just want you to be careful that’s all.”

“Careful?” Calista’s vein on her temple throbbed.

“I don’t want you to forget why we’re really here.”

“How can I? It’s all I think about. Every second. I can promise you that nothing will make me forget that.”

“Good,” Koa tried to sound less pleased, she wasn’t sure she succeeded. “Because I don’t want you to get distracted. Things change. Whether it’s a day from now or a week from now, or even a year from now, things always change. The only thing that won’t change is your people needing you.”

Calista’s head snapped away towards the empty hallway. 

Koa felt a little guilty for being so harsh. Her temper and opinions were much harder to gauge let alone keep a lid on ever since… 

Lightning travelled up her arm as her robotic fingers closed in a fist. The pain was milder now. She imagined she’d be able to lift her arm all the way up without relying on the ugly sling digging into her ribs and neck to keep it steady. 

Koa sighed apologetically, “We come from different worlds.” Koa wasn’t referring to herself when she mentioned the proverbial ‘_we_’. It was meant to hint at someone else. “Don’t become too attached. It won’t bode well for anyone.”

A fire burned through Calista’s next words, “Is that the advice of a friend… or my guardian?”

Koa felt those words lacerate through her. Their dynamic had shifted to a state she had never witnessed before. It was like watching the death of a beloved character from a play that always recited its lines in the backdrop of her life. Koa controlled her facial muscles. Swallowing up whatever feelings were swirling in her head like loud, angry hornets. Duty always came first.

“That’s up to you to decide,” Koa offered.

“Then I will take your counsel under advisement.” Calista locked her jaw and stalked off. 

Lightning shot up in two successive bursts this time.

Koa swore. This wasn’t how she would have usually handled things. She wasn’t completely in control. That made her blood boil over.

Odhen

“Why did you pull us out of hyperspeed so suddenly?” Poe asked from behind Odhen’s shoulder.

“Yeah, what’s the emergency?” Paige asked immediately after.

Odhen pointed to a blip on his radar screen. It was originating from a debris field behind one of the moon rings near Telos Four. “See that. That’s another ship. They pulled out of hyperspeed around the same time we did. They must have caught the space distortion field around our trajectory.”

“How’d you figure?” Zeeke asked, the faint smell of gas and sulphur permeating off his body. 

“Because that’s how he picked up on their position,” Poe said with knowledge of distortion fields.

“What are you thinking, coincidence or not?” Zeeke said.

Ton-Ton rambled on in the background while Odhen added his opinion, “Got no clue, that’s why you’re all here.”

Calista leaned in to look at the blip better, by doing so she brushed up against Poe and Paige. Odhen found it interesting that only Paige made an effort to give her more room in the cramped space. Poe was perfectly fine with the skin on skin contact, so was Calista. Koa, on the other hand, was trying to refrain from narrowing her eyes. 

This was turning out to be the longest _simple_ haul of his life.

Calista tapped a finger on her bottom lip, “From the scans, this doesn’t resemble any Thesmoran frigate or ship I’m familiar with.” Poe'e eyes quickly skittered to and fro.

“Could be pirates or scavvies,” Zeeke pondered.

Poe bit his bottom lip in thought, shaking off Zeeke’s idea, “There’s not much in the ways of scavenging out here and pirates have been sticking to the Western Reaches since the war broke out. What’s the ships transponder call-sign?”

Odhen sighed and then pressed a few buttons. A moment later, a name popped up, “Ship is registered under the call-sign: _Veractyl Maw._” Something interesting on the scan caught his attention. “I’ll be. The kid was right. That’s a Gauntlet Fighter. Only members of the Qa’ten gang use those_._”

Zeeke’s hands balled into fists and he tried to hide his reaction by pocketing them into the pair of new overalls that fit his frame poorly. 

Odhen was too aware and that made him feel on edge.

“Isn’t that Soress’s gang?” Poe leaned his weight onto the back of Ton-Ton’s chair, tilting the Jawa at a higher angle.

“Who’s Soress?” Calista frowned.

Odhen folded his arms, “No one we want to cross paths with that’s for sure.”

Zeeke’s shadow melted away from over the dashboard, the smell of sulphur retreating with it. 

“Whoever they are,” Mokk-Toh’s silvery tone washed over the room like ice water. “They mean us no harm.”

“How can you be so sure?” Koa challenged him.

Mokk-Toh stared out towards the moon that held the dust ring, the room turning prickly with a static charge that was neither caused by machinery or friction, it almost seemed like a dormant layer in the air turning active. It made the hairs stand on Oden’s arms. Poe rubbed his nape from the odd sensation and Paige shuddered. Koa and Calista were unfazed by it, like they’d been aware of this charge the whole time. Perhaps their different physiology was the reason. 

“I just do,” Mokk-Toh finished, hands twisting their grip on a training staff he undoubtedly carved himself. Though Odhen wasn’t about to ask how or when he had the time to make it. 

Odhen went back to flipping switches and turning dials, “Good enough for me.”

Ton-Ton blared over the comms for no reason when a tight-beam came through a secure channel.

Odhen recognised the transponder signal from the secure packet Zeeke had sent out a few days back. Whoever he tried to get in contact with just sent a reply. 

“Go tell the kid he’s got a message will ya, shorty.”

Ton-Ton slid off the chair and Poe took over. He didn’t offer his input or suggestions which Odhen took as a silent olive branch to show that Poe wasn’t going to try and call any shots while under the Somnambulist’s roof. 

Off in the distance, he heard Zeeke say, “I’ll get to it later. Let’s just land in one piece first.”

That made Odhen chuckle.

The Somnambulist made her descent towards Telos Four, the strange ship –the Veractyl Maw– hadn’t moved from its hiding spot, their engines no longer giving a heat signature. Mokk-Toh was right, they didn’t appear to be a threat. 

Behind them, the large Resistance refueller ship pulled out of hyperspeed more gracefully than the Somnambulist had and began it’s descent as well.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _When people say, "Make a difference!" it can be daunting and seem like there isn't much you can do besides buy reusable bags and recycle paper and plastic, but that's not entirely true. If you own cats and feed them from food packets, you should know those packets aren't widely recycled, but now there's a new campaign that's trying to tackle this particular issue: [TerraCycle](https://www.terracycle.com/en-GB/brigades/petfood). Unfortunately, I think this is only done in the UK for now._


	11. Metal Boneyard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **S**orry this chapter took slightly longer to post than the rest, things have been hectic -between my ginormous reading list, my dissertation prep and just daily shenanigans, time and creative inspiration haven't been on my side (and I also didn't like the first three versions of this chapter that I wrote). I hope you like this new chapter, tell me what you think! Hopefully I'll get back to my regular one chapter a week habit.
> 
> _Some good news is I'm working on a spin-off for this series that may include some of these characters but it will be centred on a Knight of Ren... Before I make any promises, I'll wait to see how this story does by its conclusion._
> 
> **The concept art used for the tower in the moodboard is by [**_Ross Tran_**](http://conceptartworld.com/?p=25450)**

Calista

“We’re comin’ up on the coordinates. Planet seems quiet accordin’ to radar,” Odhen steadied their decent with one hand while the other pointed to a towering structure obscured by dark thunder clouds. “There’s our mark.”

Calista and Paige leaned closer to the windshield to get a better view. Poe was preoccupied with looking over all the flashing lights on the dashboard. 

The inside of the Somnambulist rattled and shook as the ship lowered onto a clearing next to a magnificent and unsightly metal construction.

The tower had all 12 bomber ships hitched onto its sides like prongs on a spiked mace. It looked like a relic of the past; covered in rust, faded paint and white saline patches from years of being exposed to stormy weather conditions. Around it, the landscape of Telos was equally devastated and muted.

Odhen narrowed his eyes as he looked through the windshield. After a pause, he snapped his fingers to get his new co-pilot’s attention, “Poe, send out the survey drones, let’s make sure we have no surprises waitin’ for us.”

Poe complied and punched in a few buttons on his side of the cockpit. The sound of something breaking off the Somnambulist’s hull reverberated through the grated floor and one of the overhead screens showed four panels displaying live camera feeds. One of the drones closed in on a row of 3 bomber ships clamped down to the tower. The clamps were caked with rust-stained salt piles, they looked like they were fused to the ships.

Doubt hung over Paige’s features as she spoke bluntly, “I’ve seen prettier looking ships in a salvage yard.”

“It’s a good thing we don’t judge a ships merits by what it looks like,” Poe noted lightly as he glanced around the Somnambulist’s interior.

Ton-Ton waddled back into the cockpit and prattled on in an alarmed tone as he read the meteorological statistics of the planet over a datapad.

“Well, ain’t that a peach!” Odhen grumbled in exasperation.

“What is it?” Paige asked as she tried to read over Ton-Ton’s screen.

“Atmosphere’s corrosive. See that paint damage on the tower and surrounding debris?—” Odhen pointed at the camera feeds of the drones circling the perimeter. “That’s not ordinary weatherin’ neither. That’s from acid rain. There’s also scorch marks along the rod of the tower. We don’t want to be anywhere near that thing when the weather turns, it’s basically a giant lightnin’ rod.”

Poe ran his hand over his scruff, “We knew Telos wasn’t going to be a destination vacation spot.”

Ton-Ton brought up some new readings that seemed to alarm him even more.

Odhen was about to translate Ton-Ton’s words but Calista interjected after noticing Mokk-Toh’s fixed gaze on something dark looming in the distance, “Let me guess, there’s a storm coming?”

“This just gets better and better,” Poe said bitterly. “I’m gonna tell the other crew members to get prepped and put on protective gear. Odhen, hail the refueller and let them know our timetables shifted. If a storm is coming, I don’t want to be on the ground when it hits.”

Odhen put on his headset and hailed the other ship. Calista quietly departed from the cockpit and made her way to the crew quarters to get changed into gear more suitable for Telos’s unfriendly climate.

Calista noticed Telos looked identical to the hologram in Leia’s office. The crew was met by a barren landscape with patches of arid desert bordered by pale, undergrown grasslands and a large body of water branching off into smaller streams like a bleeding wound the colour of red clay.

The land was littered with remnants of wrecked ships ranging from destroyer class cruisers to the much smaller TIE-fighters half covered in red moss, or buried under rock formations, or sunken in craters too big to see past the horizon. Ruins of an older civilisation barely survived the onslaught –crumbling and forgotten, they held little of the past intact. At the centre of all this chaos was the tower, standing tall like a lightning rod.

When Calista stepped off the Somnambulist, covered by the shadow of the descending behemoth that was the refueller, she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that she was walking over sacred ground. Everyone else around her seemed unfazed as they walked hastily from the Somnambulist to the refueller to the tower –which now looked slanted from ground level– to rig up the fuel lines.

“It would’ve sucked to have been in this battle,” Paige remarked idly as she looked at all the destroyed ships that once belonged to the Rebels and the Empire alike. “To think, just yesterday I didn’t even know a place like this existed.”

“Who knows, maybe a hundred years from now the galaxy will forget everything that’s happening too,” Poe said snidely.

Calista couldn’t tell if he was being fatalistic or hopeful.

Odhen whistled from behind them, thumbs hooked around his belt as he stared up at the tower, “How long do you reckon it took to build that hitchin’ post?”

Mokk-Toh leaned on his wooden staff and held a knowing look as he stared at the tower –he was the only one without wide eyes or a dropped jaw, “Longer than you imagine.”

“Uh-huh,” Odhen sighed before training his sights back up in the sky. He didn’t look weary, but he also didn’t look comfortable in his boots, per se. It was as though he was secretly afraid that the ship parked behind the moon would set off a charge and cause debris to plummet towards them at any moment. It didn’t boost Calista’s confidence in their mission going off smoothly.

Ton-Ton made a bewildered sound that made him seem almost child-like towards Zeeke who pulled out something shiny. Ton-Ton gave him a high-five before scuttling away with the shiny object back into the ship.

Koa stalked passed them in silence, face obscured by the hood of her anorak. She kept walking until she found a patch of shade under a half-buried TIE-fighter. She focused her anger –or whatever was bubbling underneath the surface– on trying to crush the TIE-fighter’s rusted parts that she had pried off with her robotic arm.

Calista wanted to walk over there and tell her to stop straining herself, but after their last tense discussion, she thought it better to let her cool off.

As though Mokk-Toh sensed her troubled thoughts, he placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her, “Koa needs her space, believe me when I tell you that I’ve been in her situation before. She’s angry, more with herself than anyone else. She’ll come around.”

Calista heaved a sigh, “You’re right… as always.”

The look of pain that pinched Koa’s muscles every time her robotic fingers closed around a piece of metal made Calista’s belly fill with hornets.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Zeeke said from inside the cargo bay, brow sweaty from all his manual work.

Calista turned to him, “Wonder what?”

“How long ago all this was put in motion,” he said before getting back to work.

Calista’s brain jumped into high gear. Zeeke had a point. From the look of the tower, it had been built a long time ago, there was a strong probability that it was constructed before she was even born. What did that mean? Was it a fail-safe? A sort of _last-trick-up-her-mother's-sleeve_ sort of situation or did she know that one day her daughter would have to flee her own homeworld and strike a bargain with the Resistance in order to get her throne back? Or was there a greater power behind the turning of events, a kind of invisible hand that moved pieces around?

Calista shook her head, there was no use making presumptions of the dead or of fate. It’s not like she’d get an answer from beyond the grave anyway.

Poe strode off the ship with a pair of binoculars in hand, scanning the area. When all was clear, he turned to gawk at the tower and then at the dark clouds growing en masse high above. He spoke into his comms, “Alright, we’ve got a lotta work to do and a small window to do it. Let’s get to work.”

The tower was dormant from years of disuse. The hinges to the entrance had refused to pry apart. Zeeke and Ton-Ton worked with plasma torches to try and pop the door clean off the frame. Sparks flew like angry fireflies and Calista was tempted to reach her gloved hand out to try and catch one.

Over the comms, one of the Resistance officers relayed to Poe that the refueller had been rigged up and all that needed to be done was activate the tower from the control room.

“How do we know the tower will still be operational after all these years?” Paige asked as she tossed a replacement torch cap in one hand.

Calista looked up at the lightning rod apex of the tower, “The structure was designed to store power through storms. The electric charges would have kept the core from decaying.”

Everyone except Mokk-Toh took a moment to turn and stare at Calista, not having expected her to have given such an answer. She smirked and said, “The mountain tribes source their electricity from lightning farms.”

The doors groaned as they fell back after the last hinge was cut through. Dust flew past them as they cracked their light sticks and walked into the old metal construct. Ton-Ton reached into his small bag and pulled out four small oval devices with protruding buttons. He pressed the buttons down and the devices hovered to life with bright beams pouring out of their singular eyes like floating torches. Zeeke studied one of the devices that hovered close to him with interest. Mokk-Toh led the way. Calista assumed it was because he was the only one to have stepped foot in the tower before.

The control room was easy to find since it was at the centre of the tower on the ground floor. There was a giant piece of tapestry hung from the south-facing wall made of colours too dark to see in poor lighting. On either side of the room were terminals that had a single slot for a key.

Poe glanced at the terminal on the far left, his hand smoothing over the rough surface, “Don’t suppose one of you have a pair of keys?”

“Let me take a look,” Zeeke placed a torch between his teeth as he pulled out a toolbox from his bag. Ton-Ton whipped out a screwdriver and started prying apart wall panels, Calista chose not to ask what he was doing.

Calista ran her hand over the key slot on the right terminal and reached for the cord she had used to tie the data chips to around her neck. The rectangular shape and dimensions were a match for the key ports. She placed the first data chip into the terminal.

A stream of lights interwoven into the metalwork of the walls came to life in a dull purple hue over the right half of the tower. The slow thrum of life vibrated through the structure as parts began to move like it was alive. The lights came on in sequence, level by level and by the last groan and metallic clanking noise, she could see to the top of the tower.

“How’d you do that?” Zeeke looked up at the wall of light.

“Here,” Calista tossed the other data chip and Zeeke fumbled to catch it. He placed it in the slot and the left wall mirrored the same actions as the right.

Once the second half of the tower was online, Calista looked up at the large tapestry hung in front of her. It was embroidered with her mother’s sigil -a purple water lily.

Poe relayed on the radio that the tower was operational. After, he appeared in her peripheral and looked up to stare at the large banner as well, “That mean anything?”

Calista half smiled, “It’s the sigil of my mother’s administration. Purple water lilies are supposed to represent stubbornness in the face of adversity. A willingness to exact change. Respect of the past and culture.”

Calista sounded like she was reading over a book of familiar anecdotes. Maybe, in a small way, she was.

Paige jumped in, “You get all that from a flower?”

Calista let out an airy laugh, “And the person it represented.”

An officer spoke over the comms letting Poe know that the refuelling process was underway.

Calista watched Zeeke and Ton-Ton work over an access hatch. Paige was on a high platform working a plasma torch with tinted goggles covering her face. Occasionally she’d hand them a tool or a canteen of water while staring in Koa’s direction –still worried for her friend’s health.

Something in her demeanour must not have been as transparent as she hoped because now Zeeke was following her line of sight.

“You two okay?” He asked, waving his screwdriver like a pointer.

“I’m not sure,” Calista admitted. “We just need space… at least that’s what Mokk-Toh says.”

“If it’s any consolation, my brother and I used to argue a lot. Tall, scary guy is right. You two probably need some breathing room,” Zeeke smiled.

“You have a brother?” Calista asked.

Zeeke’s tone went serious, “Yeah… Gareth.”

“He in the Resistance too?”

Zeeke shook his head and decided to get back to work, “No, we parted ways a while back. Differences of opinion.”

Zeeke’s entire body clenched and she knew what that meant, he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

“I have a difficult relationship with my brother too,” Calista said as a way of putting the conversation to rest.

Poe marched back from the Somnambulist with a spare part in hand, “Hey, kid.” He grabbed Zeeke’s attention at the wrong moment because somehow Zeeke managed to accidentally zap Ton-Ton with a tool. The Jawa yelped disapprovingly. “Got that component you needed.” He tossed it at Zeeke.

Zeeke nodded in appreciation and went back to work just when Paige decided to take a break and jump off the platform to grab some water.

Poe pulled out his binoculars again and did another once-over the area. Suddenly, a cheeky smile came over his lips as he pointed to a small object several clicks away.

“Would you look at _that_!” Poe sounded excited.

Calista looked at the smudge of silver lost in a sea of sand.

Paige moved closer, eyes inquisitive with curiosity as she grabbed Poe’s binoculars and focused on the silver smudge. Instantly her curious smile fell and she replied with less enthusiasm, “A ship?”

“Do you _know_ what type of ship that is?” Poe asked, hands on his hips.

Paige sighed and looked through the binoculars again, eye’s squinting behind the viewport, “A, uh… small one.”

“How small?” Zeeke peeked out from behind the panel.

“_Wee_ small,” Paige said with her thumb and index finger coming together until there was barely a gap between them.

Zeeke walked over and Paige gladly handed him the binoculars. As soon as he caught sight of what all the commotion was about he whistled out in appreciation, “Wow! _That_ looks like an Interceptor.”

Calista felt lost in the conversation being had around her, it didn’t help that she wasn’t paying much attention to everyone else. She still found herself zoning out and returning to watch over Koa trying to familiarise herself with her new arm.

In the background, Paige asked, “What’s an Interceptor?”

Poe replied, “A Star-fighter. One of the fastest makes actually. Legend says that Jedi favoured Interceptors because of their speed and manoeuvrability.”

“What’s it doing all the way out here?” Zeeke pulled an eyebrow up.

Poe’s lips quirked into a smirk, “I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell gonna find out.” He turned to face Paige and Zeeke, “Think you two can take overseeing to the repairs and the refuelling while I take a detour?”

Paige shrugged with a less-than-subtle roll of her eyes, “I’m not sure how we’d manage without your expertise to oversee the refuelling… but somehow we’ll pull through.”

Poe leaned closer to Zeeke to ask again, “You sure you can handle this?”

Zeeke rubbed the back of his neck, “Ehh… All I gotta do is make sure fuel goes into ships right? Seems doable.”

“Yup, and make sure they don’t blow up,” Poe said.

Zeeke’s eyes went the slightest bit bigger, “Gee, that’s a big confidence booster.”

“Paige said you almost blew up the ship,” Poe folded his arms so he could seem more intimidating.

Zeeke squinted one eye at Paige while he rolled on the balls of his feet, “Minor exaggeration.” He said sheepishly before shoving Poe lightly. “Go do whatever it is you wanna do. Paige will keep me in line.”

Paige mock saluted before she climbed back up onto the platform.

Poe chuckled, “Alright, I’ll stay in contact via comms. Keep me updated. I won’t be long.”

Zeeke and Paige returned to work, filling the air with the sound of buzzing and crackling. Above them, the sky grew darker still. An acidic, wet smell coated the breeze. The storm wasn’t far off.

Poe

It took a couple of minutes to find everything he needed, but once Poe finished packing the supplies into his bag, he noticed Calista staring out in deep contemplation. A part of him –the reckless side of him– spoke out without thinking when he reached her side, a coy look on his face. “Psst, _P__rincess._”

Calista turned to look at him, “_Commander_,” she replied with some cheek.

“Want to take a detour?” He nudged his head towards the shiny object in the distance. “Beats standing idly by.”

“Only if you promise to stop calling me 'Princess'_._” She countered.

“I’m confused,” Poe pretend frowned. “Isn’t that your title?”

Calista clicked her tongue, “That title doesn’t hold much weight right now.”

“Tell that to them,” Poe pointed at Koa who was conversing with Zeeke under the shade of a wreck and a meditative Mokk-Toh who had found his way atop a large rock formation in the opposite direction.

Calista smiled and Poe felt somewhat proud that he was responsible for that.

“Fair point,” she replied.

“So how about it, Calista, care to dig up some old secrets?” her name sounded strange rolling off his tongue. It was then that he realised he’d never said it out loud before.

She grabbed her bag and started off without delay. She turned around to call out to him, “You’re lagging behind, _C__ommander!_”

“Only because I gave you a head start, _P__rincess_!” he teased as he jogged after her.

During their walk, Poe indulged himself by talking about any of the wrecked ships he recognised on the way. Calista listened intently which made him feel even more confident. She’d occasionally ask a question or two, but mostly she just listened and he felt no remorse for chewing her ear off with his deep knowledge of starships.

The banged-up Inceptor stuck out of a ditch like a jagged tooth. As Poe looked over the ship's design and the faded blue lines painted down the wings, he started to feel more and more like his six-year-old self –adventurous, reckless and fearless.

“This is an ETA-2. Never seen one up close before. It’s smaller than I imagined. If I know my history, most were destroyed or lost in the wars. Production stopped after the Clone Wars began –or maybe it was after it ended?” he lost himself in thought for a split second.

When he came back to the world around him, Poe noticed Calista had been staring blankly at him while he rambled on about the ETA-2. He began to feel a little self-conscious. An awkward laugh slipped out, “What?”

Calista sighed tiredly, but there was a smidge of gratitude in the manner she did it, “It’s nothing… It’s just, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone light up when they talk about all this the way you do. You know so much, it’s mind-numbing.”

Poe scoffed, running his hand over his scruff as his eyebrows rose up. He felt a little insulted by that remark.

“Thanks.” He said sarcastically.

“Not in a bad way!” Calista scrambled after noticing his reaction. “It’s nice. Most of the time I have to tear my focus in two as I try to listen to everyone around me while also trying to drown out my own voice. Not with you though. It’s easy with you, you’re all I hear.”

Poe’s mouth fell as he stood there, wide-eyed like an idiot, for a moment.

_Quick! Say something you cinder block! _He shouted internally.

Calista didn’t seem the slightest bit flustered by that admission –which probably meant he was reading too far into it.

_Or she’s just very confident, _his inner voice chimed in.

“So,” Calista began. “What makes _Interceptors_ so unique?”

Her fingers glided over the sand-dusted exterior until she uncovered an old symbol painted in blue on the side; the Jedi symbol.

Poe cleared his throat and wiped the besmirched look from his face, “Well, _for starters_, they don’t have a hyperdrive. They have to be hooked up to a hyperspace ring or docked inside larger ships to travel between systems. Oh! Here’s another interesting fact: they don’t have shields.”

Her face scrunched up, “That doesn’t sound very practical.”

“It’s not, but its worth it,” he knocked the side of the chassis and the sound echoed weakly. “This baby can go up to 1200 kilometres per hour at top speed.”

Calista pursed her lips and Poe understood she didn’t quite get why the ETA-2’s speed was such a marvel.

He laughed, a bit less awkwardly this time. “Just know that that’s faster than most X-wings. Including my own.” It pained him to admit that last part.

“At least you’ve got a shield,” she reminded him as she patted the ship. “I bet if the guy flying this ship had a shield…”

“Thing’s would have turned out differently?” he finished her thought for her. “A bit of a romantic sentiment, don’t you think?”

“Doesn’t hurt to be a romantic,” she shrugged. “You never know how little someone needs to make a big difference.”

“In our cases, I think it’s safe to say we need a bit more than just shields,” he half-joked.

Calista laughed, but not unreservedly. She peeked through an opening torn through the side, “Have you ever seen one in working condition?”

“Yeah, once. A Private collector on Hosnian Prime had a museum of historic artefacts.”

Over the comms, Paige informed him that the bomber ships were beginning their detachment from the tower and would soon start their climb. Poe thanked her and muted his comms, feeling there was no use to have them on since Paige and Zeeke had everything under control.

Calista looked him in the eye, interest making her eyes smaller. “Why do you love flying so much?”

Poe cracked his knuckles and leaned against the weakened metal hull of the Interceptor, “There’s no simple answer to that.”

“Try me,” she urged as she joined her shoulder next to his when she leaned against the ship's frame.

Poe sifted through his brain for the right thing to say like a sieve trying to separate mixed grains of sand. Finally, he decided to reply with a question of his own, “When’s the most free you’ve ever felt?”

Calista didn’t have to think on it, she began to answer almost instantly with a reminiscent look in her eye, “When I was a kid, my dad took me on a diplomatic trip to visit the mountain tribes in Torsh –a province in Thesmora. They’re the tribe that use lightning farms for electricity. They had a dome made entirely of glass in the centre of this endless lightning farm.

"I was maybe six or seven, and my father and I just spent hours watching the lightning strike these tall spikes repeatedly. Each time it would make a different sound to the last. It was like the storm was making music and something about being close enough to lightning to touch it, to _feel _the aftershocks travel beneath my feet, was exhilarating… _freeing_.”

“That’s… not what I expected,” Poe said –though a part of him had to admit he was slightly intrigued by the prospect of standing in the centre of a lightning storm untouched. “But that’s what it’s like for me when I fly. That same exhilaration you felt. The freedom from everything else that comes with it, that’s what it’s like to fly.”

Calista looked at the wrecks around her and said solemnly, “But that freedom comes with a price.”

“Doesn’t all freedom?”

With that question hanging in the air, they both stood there for the longest moment looking at the desolate planet and its lost beauty. For some reason, Poe’s mind was drawn back to the sight of Calista looking regal in Leia’s office and different from when he’d first seen her. He had had a hard time getting her out of his mind, being close all the time wasn’t helping either. He couldn’t really put a finger on when exactly he’d started having trouble keeping his thoughts free of her, but it felt like ages.

At first, it was the profound look of sadness in her eyes that harangued him. Then it was that look of wonder and the genuine smile she had when she told him about her homeworld. Now, finally, he decided that it was simply _her _and the kindred spirit they shared.

“I bet this place used to be something to behold in its day,” Calista imagined.

Poe didn’t think twice about what he was about to say, “There are still one or two beautiful things here.”

“Like what?” she asked.

Poe turned to face her. He felt drawn into her inquiring gaze. But there was something different about it. Poe leaned in closer and perhaps it was because they were alone for the first time, but suddenly he felt a jolt of excitement race through his veins. It almost reminded him of flying.

He knew he couldn't pursue her, but the promise of secrecy made him hope that maybe she'd let him. They were incompatible at best and a cautionary tale waiting to happen at worst. She led a different life to his. They came from separate worlds and more likely than not, they would return to them before this war was over. But if he knew this, and he knew that she knew this too, why weren’t they stopping each other? Why was she allowing him to move closer?

Before they could indulge in their recklessness, reality struck when an explosion went off behind them. Flames reached up for the sky as a silent bolt of lightning struck. One out of a dozen airborne bomber ships slowly retarded in the air until it exploded a second time when it impacted with a mountain.

Poe shielded Calista away from the bright flash of light as a gust of wind blew against his back. He waited for the delayed sound of lightning, but it never came.

When the wind died down, Poe looked back in the direction of the explosion, heart pounding and fists clenched. He could barely register the extent of the damage before a second ship ruptured in flames and plummeted to the ground. He turned his comms back on and screamed for Paige or Zeeke or anyone to answer but he was met by static on the other end of the line.

Calista looked on in horror as a black, beastly ship, previously camouflaged by the dark clouds, fired a plasma shot at the burning bomber ship. 

"Versengen," she whispered in disbelief.

Poe realised then that it wasn’t lightning that he first saw, it was cannon fire.

_To be continued…_


	12. Inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry my update is a little late, work is piling up and it's getting harder to get any free time. I will say, this chapter is a little bit shorter because it's basically the view of things from the rest of the crew's POV before the cliffhanger last chapter. I didn't want the battle on Telos to be too long, but I also didn't want it to be a very long singular chapter so I've broken it up. I _can_ promise some heroics on Poe's part next chapter and more insight into Calista's feelings in all this. Hopefully, we'll get this story close to being wrapped up before SWTROS premier's in December.
> 
> _ Hope you like the chapter, feedback is always enjoyed and let's keep our fingers crossed for a quick chapter update ☻♥ _

Zeeke

Zeeke bit into a ration bar while Paige worked above him with a plasma torch. He stared at the Somnambulist, wondering about the message waiting to be played in the comms room. Anxiety settled in his belly like bad hooch on an empty stomach, he didn’t think Gareth would get back to him after the way they parted. 

Takodana was the closest to disaster he’d come in a long while, the initial shock and fear had overcome his senses and at that moment he knew he didn’t want Gareth’s last memory of him to be the one where he had walked out on him. 

Never in a million years did Zeeke ever think he’d get a reply. At least he had work to distract him, it was the breaks in between that ate at him, moments like now.

“Shit!” Paige exclaimed as a heavy bolt burst from expansion. 

Calista gasped in freight, eyes momentarily removed from Koa’s hunched over figure a few ways off.

Zeeke started as well and instinctively ducked down before he let out a shaky laugh, “Easy there, we’re supposed to get the tower operational, not the other way around”

“Old piece of junk!” Paige kicked at one of the towers numerous panels being worked on. 

Over the comms, one of the Resistance officers spoke: “We need an engineer at the top deck, one of the clamps is none responsive.”

“Copy,” Paige huffed with exhaustion. She looked down at Zeeke with big eyes, “I’ve still got this section to fix up, think you can go up?”

Zeeke smiled, happy for another distraction, “Gladly.” 

As he picked himself up, he looked over at Koa and something tugged at him. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, she was lost and more importantly, he assumed her to be too prideful to ask for help, to show vulnerability. In a way, this side of her reminded him of his younger years.

Zeeke figured that if he needed a distraction, there was no doubt in his mind that she too needed something to numb her thoughts.

He made his way over to Koa and she welcomed him coldly, avoiding eye contact and insisting on fighting the resistance of her prosthetic. The hood of her anorak kept the upper half of her face obscured, but he could see the muscles in her jaw tense.

“Hey,” Zeeke announced himself.

Koa answered in a brusque tone, “What do you want?” 

“Ahh…” Zeeke fumbled for a moment before catching his quaking vocal cords. “Paige is sending me up to do some repairs and I need an extra hand.”

“Take the Jawa, isn’t that his thing?”

“He doesn’t have the reach,” Zeeke shrugged.

Koa looked up, “Is that a joke?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s terrible.” 

Despite her tone, the corner of Koa’s lips wobbled by a fraction, her body language still unreadable. Behind them, Zeeke saw Poe and Calista make for the Interceptor, a liveliness sparked in their steps. 

Koa frowned, her prosthetic clenching into a fist that refused to close all the way. She hissed at a barely audible tone before taking a deep breath.

“You don’t approve?” Zeeke asked.

Koa quirked a brow, choosing expression over talking.

He ruffled his curls, “I’m annoyingly perceptive, I know.”

“I could care less,” she said.

He crouched down so they were the same level, “Doesn’t seem like that from where I’m standing… or _was _standing.”

Koa watched Calista and Poe’s shapes diminish in the distance as they kept walking further and further away. 

Zeeke opened his mouth, ready to ask another question.

Koa sighed and cut him off, “If I agree to help you, will you shut up?”

Zeeke smiled his toothy smile, hand outreached as he stood back up, “No promises, but it’s a start.”

Koa got up without his help. He balled his hands and shoved them into his pockets.

“I still don’t get why you couldn’t just take the Jawa,” she commented.

Zeeke led the way, “He’s working on something.”

Mokk-Toh

As he sat atop a large rock formation, Mokk-Toh’s memory remembered Telos differently. It was still arid then, the grasslands stretched out further but were every bit as patchy, and the water took on a more sunset orange colour than bleeding red. Yet, that wasn’t what made Telos feel different. It was him. 

Suddenly, he felt his age more than ever. More so than the days he had spent broken and lost in that cave on Takodana. More so than the days it took for his body to heal from the blaster shot to his shoulder. Everything was changing way too fast and he was no longer as quick to adapt as he had been in his youth. 

This crucible Calista was on, the crucible Lenora began, felt like it spanned years and not days. Mokk-Toh’s bones ached because of it. In the quiet, contemplative moments he was reminded of how much Lenora’s absence affected more than just his heart, it affected his soul. He was limping along now, the only thing that mattered enough to keep him from giving in was Calista. As long as she still had fight left in her, he swore he would too.

As he meditated, his senses picked up on the fact the moisture in the air had grown thicker. Rain was coming. There was something foreboding hiding between the cracks of light separating dark clouds. His skin prickled and his blood ran hot.

Something wasn’t right. He felt like his shadow wasn’t his own anymore, it was as though a phantom was growing nearer, making its way through the cracks in the sky.

That intoxicating rush of rage swirled in the back of his mind again. 

Versengen wasn’t far off and something told Mok-Toh he wasn’t alone this time.

Mokk-Toh made his way back to the tower, he had to warn everyone.

Koa

The exterior maintenance walkway was narrow. Looking down from several levels high, Koa got a sudden bout of vertigo, making the world spin. Her hand reached for the railing to hold onto, but she had forgotten which hand she was reaching out with. Shooting pain travelled up her nerves until the back of her right eye stung. A groan coaxed its way out of her lips and Zeeke turned around with concern.

“You okay?” he reached for her shoulders to steady her.

Koa shook him off and spoke through a clamped jaw, “If I have to tell one more person that I’m_ fine_, I’ll tear this forsaken arm off and beat them with it.”

Zeeke’s eyebrows rose high as he tried to hold back his uncomfortable laughter, “Colourful picture. Just… uh, mind your step. This entire walkway is one pin-drop away from collapsing.” 

Zeeke kept walking with light feet. Koa noticed the aftershocks from her prosthetic were becoming milder, the pain had already faded. That was one thing to be thankful for, at least. Her emotions, on the other hand, were still running on a short fuse and that agitated her. 

“Here we are,” Zeeke informed her as he crouched down to examine one of the thousands of identical large clamps keeping one of the bombers hitched to the tower. “Looks like the bolts are rusted tight.”

A rumble of thunder let them know the weather was changing, fast.

“Whatever it is you need to do, do it fast. This storm isn’t waiting for anyone,” Koa said.

“Right,” Zeeke pulled out two spanners and offered one to Koa. “I’ll loosen these bolts while you do those.”

With an impassive face, Koa took the spanner and got to work. She couldn’t feel the coldness of the metal spanner on her prosthetic arm, all she could feel was the additional weight pulling on her skin. It made her feel… odd. 

She placed the spanner in her right hand where her skin still had the sense of touch and got to work loosening the bolts at an odd angle. 

The rudimentary cycle of turning the spanner anti-clockwise filled her mind with nothing but the scraping noise of the bolts grinding against the rusted build up. 

Paige’s voice called out over the comms, “Heads up, the first bombers are detaching. Keep clear. Zeeke you almost done working on those clamps on number eight?”

Zeeke coughed before answering, “Nearly there.”

“Hurry your asses up, this storm is getting angry,” Paige warned just as the wind picked up.

Koa took in a deep breath of air and felt the bitter notes of acid hanging in the wind. 

The first three bombers were airborne, casting giant shadows over the tower as they rose to meet the dark clouds. Their sound was insect-like –harmonised and vastly different from the Somnambulist’s thrum. Parts of the tower moved like a conveyer belt, pulling the next three bomber ships all the way to the top so they could depart. 

Koa’s instincts found the feel and sound of the tower to be disconcerting. The hairs on her nape stood erect as if to warn her that she shouldn’t be standing on an unsafe platform attached to an old construction. Zeeke was calm though, his breath even, his hands busy at work.

“I think I get it,” Zeeke casually said.

A knot formed on Koa’s forehead, “Get what?”

“Why you don’t approve of the commander and the princess so much,” Zeeke’s eyes were distracted by something in the sky before he went back to work.

Koa sighed, “You promised to shut up.”

“I say a lot of things,” he chuckled before setting his spanner down and swapping it for a crowbar so he could pry the bolts off. “You think she’s freezing you out… because of what happened on Takodana.”

Koa went still for an instant, her robotic arm twitching at the would-be fingertips. Her first thought was to bite back, tell him to mind his own business. Instead, she chose to take a page out of Mokk-Toh’s book and remain stoic. 

Zeeke kept talking, “Let me guess, it’s always been the two of you, right? You both probably wouldn’t have managed to escape your homeworld if not for the other. She’s the brains and you’re the muscle. A package deal. But your muscle isn’t whole anymore and you’re afraid she’s pushing you away out of fear.”

Zeeke’s words stung with irony. Turns out he knew what was really crawling under her skin better than she did. 

With that revelation, the anger crawled its way back into her stomach. It was bad enough that she was no longer capable of protecting Calista to the best of her abilities, but the fact that she was too wrapped up in her own anger and self-pity to see what was really bothering her made her feel worse.

Koa snickered bitterly to fight off the sting in her eyes. Calista was right, she should have stayed on D’Qar. Her arm wasn’t the only thing Versengen had taken away from her. He had taken much, much more than that. 

“Protecting Calista has been my duty for as long as I can remember,” Koa’s voice was hoarse. “I was good at it. I never failed. Not until…”

Koa could feel the phantom of her arm shaking –the one that used to be whole and flesh like the other. When she looked down, it was still other to her. Still not her own.

Zeeke set his tools down and placed a hand on her prosthetic one. The added weight didn’t bother her as much this time. It was comforting in a way.

“You didn’t fail. She’s still alive. You both are,” Zeeke’s red curls blended well with the red of the sand stretching endlessly around them, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s okay to be lost or angry. And it’s okay for her to be scared too. You just need time to process things. It’s been one shit storm after the next, living like that makes you forget to breathe sometimes. People do things they normally wouldn’t when they don’t have a moment to breathe. This galaxy can be suffocating. Trust me, I know.”

Koa looked him in the eye, uncertainty hanging on her next words, “What if we don’t have enough time?”

Zeeke looked out at the Somnambulist, his eyes narrowing as though something was plaguing his mind. Then his body language shifted, his shoulders squared and his smile turned into a satisfied smirk. “I don’t think we ever truly have enough time. We just have now, I guess.”

After undoing the final bolt, Koa handed Zeeke the spanner and got back up on her feet.

Paige’s voice shifted the atmosphere around them, some urgency in her raised octaves, “You done with the repairs up there?”

“Just about. Something wrong?” Zeeke sat up, brows furrowed.

“Don’t know,” Paige revealed. “Tall, scary guy thinks we may have trouble. I tried to hail Poe but his comms are down. I sent some officers after him. Get your stuff and get down here. Odhen’s prepping for take-off. We leave once the last bomber is airborne. I want us off this rock as soon as possible.”

Koa and Zeeke stood clear of the ship clamps. The grind of the tower’s conveyer belt was loud, unleashing the last bombers to join their clanky, old brethren in the sky. 

Zeeke picked up his tools and had the final word with Paige before heading back towards the access door, “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

As all 12 bombers formed a line in the sky, a flash of light spilt through the dark clouds and Koa averted her eyes. When she reopened them, the entire horizon turned a fiery blood-orange colour and Zeeke’s face went pale.

One of the ships had been obliterated into nothing more than shards and flames as it crashed into a mountainside. The sound shook at Koa’s bones, the impact kicking up dust like a sandstorm.

Zeeke and Koa braced themselves and held onto the weak railing while sand dug into their skin with great velocity. Not a second later, a black, beastly ship fired at a second bomber ship. The blazing bomber began to descend backwards, towards them. Towards the tower.

Over the comms, Koa could only just make out Paige’s panicked words before the heat from the burning ships filled the radio-waves with interference.

Working on adrenaline and instinct, Koa grabbed Zeeke’s arm and made for the access door. The lowering bomber’s protruding cockpit grazed the side of the tower, folding metal inwards and colliding with the ground in another explosion. 

The tower swayed and screeched, its foundations compromised. Beneath her feet, Koa could see a blazing inferno form where the bomber buried itself. 

“Shit!” Koa exclaimed as the weakened infrastructure holding the railing steady started to crumble.

“That’s not good,” Zeeke swallowed loudly as his knees buckled from the sway of the walkway at their feet.

Koa ignored the tendrils of electricity burning at her nerves as her robotic arm moored itself into the wall to keep from swaying anymore. 

There was a waiver in her voice, “Quick, the walkway won’t hold!” 

For the first time, she wasn’t fighting against a stronger or smarter foe, Koa was pushing the boundaries of her luck, and that was the one thing they needed more than armour or strategy. 

Her heartbeat so loud it almost dulled the pain shooting up her arm. Almost.

An entire section of the walkway collapsed far behind them, the rebar clanking viciously before it joined the inferno below.

Zeeke hunkered low and made sure his footing was light, “No. Sudden. Movements. We take it slow.”

Koa nodded. Then, thunder rumbled, ugly and splendid. As the sound travelled through the tower like a beast’s guttural groan, the walkway vibrated like a precursory instrument. Out of the clouds, illuminated by a white flash of lightning that burned into the ground next to the TIE fighter Koa had used for shelter, another ship appeared. Bigger, quieter and newer. It was a warship and it wasn’t with the Resistance.

“What is that?” Koa squinted.

Zeeke followed her line of sight and swore, he knew instantly, “The First Order.”

The First Order’s ship fired needlessly at the tower and the parked refueller, red blasts piercing through everything, leaving a trail of destruction that was headed straight towards Poe and Calista.

Dread sunk her heart so low Koa thought she’d die. There was no sense, only chaos as Telos transformed into a battleground. 

In the cacophony of blaster fire and explosions, between the heavy breathing and deafening heartbeats, Koa found herself detached from her anger. The _now _was all that existed. It was pure. It was harrowing. And it was filled with uncertainty.

Being the soldier she was trained to be, she pushed forward. Her mind focused on thing: getting off the tower. Zeeke was so close he had practically turned into her shadow. 

To their dismay, the tower was barely holding together. The metal grew hot from the flames licking at the base. Parts of the structure broke off and caused greater destruction on the ground. Koa prayed the elevator would still be operational despite the severe beating the exterior had taken.

Distracted by her thoughts, Koa’s foot slipped and Zeeke had to scramble to keep her from falling. She looked at him with appreciation and he smiled back as though they weren’t at the centre of destruction itself. Koa very nearly smiled at that. Zeeke never ceased to amaze.

The walkway creaked, and for a brief second, they both held their breaths. A few seconds of inactivity trickled by and they allowed their shoulders to slouch with relief. 

“Come on, the elevator is only a few more steps,” Zeeke said enthusiastically.

Koa began walking forward again. Then the walkway gave in beneath their feet.

Faster than a cat, Koa’s robotic arm grabbed onto a part of the railing still attached to tower, her other hand locked in a death grip onto Zeeke’s. Hanging by a thread, Koa was the only anchor keeping her and Zeeke from plummeting to certain death. 

Zeeke’s full weight threatened to tear Koa’s prosthetic from her stub. The pain in her arm hit her tenfold as her robotic fingers barely closed into a fully formed grip while the railing began to bend. They both glanced at one another with wide eyes and sweat covered brows.

“Hold on!” Koa shouted as the railing slowly curled over.

_To be continued…_


	13. Foxhole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **To** any readers still keeping up with this series: sorry for the late updates I've been overwhelmed with the daily drudge on this revolving rock of ours.
> 
> The Telos story arc will be wrapping up with the next upcoming chapter update, for that reason it may be a little longer than most -bear with me. On the bright side, we're peeling the layers behind Versengen's mask and I'm excited to finally reveal his tense connection to Mokk-Toh soon (speculation is welcome if you have any inklings). I decided to move Poe's section to the next chapter because it worked better so no heroics in this one, but there will be plenty happening in the penultimate chapter of the Telos excursion.
>
>> I'd love to hear from you guys so don't be shy to leave a comment, criticism is welcomed too ♥ Hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading as always, I know getting invested in OC's is more tedious than reading about beloved characters and for that I appreciate all those who are giving my story a chance.  

> 
> _Check out some links to disaster relief for the fires in Australia below!_

Calista

_Calista looked at the wrecks around her and said solemnly, “But that freedom comes with a price.”_

_“Doesn’t all freedom?”_

The question of freedom had imprinted itself in her mind. Calista wondered whether such a virtue was worth all the suffering it caused.

The silence that hung between her and Poe in that moment felt liberating. Here, all the way out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by only dead things and her own thoughts, Calista felt at home. Poe’s presence barely infringed on that feeling. It surprised her how easy everything was with him, how dangerously at ease she felt beside him.

His company wasn’t demanding and he didn’t have a judgemental air about him. He was sincere in a way that many of Calista’s familiar acquaintances growing up weren’t. He wasn’t like a diplomat, swaying from one side to the next as long as the situation called for it. He wasn’t like a military man either, not cold and unreadable like Mokk-Toh or serious like Koa. Poe was an enigma to her and she was trained to nurture her curious streak since childhood.

To distract herself from her ruminations, Calista looked around the sandy terrain and broke the silence with a thought, “I bet this place used to be something to behold in its day.”

Poe’s voice was soft and whisper-like when he replied, “There are still one or two beautiful things here.”

She steadied herself, “Like what?”

He turned to face her and Calista’s heart beat with vigour as if to remind her it was still there, knocking against her ribs. When he leaned closer she found herself torn in two, both wanting to know what would happen next and doubtful.

She feared how much damage a simple kiss could do if she allowed it. After all, all great falls begin with a kiss and Calista wasn’t sure if she had enough left in her to give. The loss of her mother had stretched her thin and she had had barely enough time to heal before she lost her home too. If the would-be-kiss was a promise of something more than a casual dalliance, something deeper, she feared neither of them could keep such a promise with how tumultuous the tides of war were.

But, if the kiss wasn’t a promise, if it was merely an impulse, Calista feared she wouldn’t be able to bottle up whatever feelings sprung from it afterwards.

As though the thought of Poe’s lips on her own wasn’t torturous enough, the storm in the background made his eyes look archaically enchanting, a sort of peaceful darkness about them.

Either way, it would seem, Calista was damned. And then she wasn’t. Abruptly, the sky caught on fire and ships rained down to cause unspeakable destruction below.

A gust of wind blew, strong, and Poe’s hands wrapped themselves around her shoulders as if it were second nature. He shielded her from the pinching sting of sand grains hurtling towards them. When he released his grip, Poe’s face was contorted by anger and shock, his fists clenched tight.

Calista’s ears rang as her heart went painfully silent. Ice water made its way through her veins and the shiver crawling up her spine was drenched with adrenaline.

She looked on in horror as a black, beastly ship, previously camouflaged by the dark clouds, fired its cannon at the burning bomber ship. 

"Versengen," she whispered in disbelief.

Next thing Calista knew, she and Poe were sprinting towards the tower. Encroaching towards them at impressive speeds was a second ship previously hidden to them. It fired a straight line of plasma rounds into the earth, leaving black marks in its wake. One of the rounds must have hit an old fuel tank because a pocket of flames reached out to the sky from beneath the ground. Cracks formed and the earth trembled. A sinkhole formed before their very eyes, swallowing large parts of shipwrecks into a waterless sea. Their way forward was blocked.

Poe began to backtrack, scanning the area for a way around, or at least some cover.

“In here!” Calista yanked Poe’s arm and nodded towards some makeshift cover underneath a hollowed-out cockpit of what used to be a grounds troop transport ship. 

“Quick thinking,” Poe said through strained breaths as they took cover. “I don’t think they saw us, but there aren’t many hiding places. We won’t stay hidden for long.”

Holes were riddled into the wreck by more plasma rounds before the warship hovered idly a few clicks south from their location. The hiss of hydraulic doors opening was diluted by the sound of havoc ensuing around the tower. Calista yearned to know what was happening, being left to think of the worst never sat well with her.

“Try your comms again,” she urged Poe as she armed herself with her modest blaster.

Poe did as she asked, but there was still no answer.

“There must be too much interference,” Poe grimaced as he looked over their cramped hiding spot. “We’re out in the open here, this cover won’t do much against a ground party in close combat.”

“Making a break for it is out of the question, it’s too open out there,” Calista added as she peered through a hole burned several inches above where she was crouching.

Poe peeked through an opening and cursed, “Foot soldiers. They don’t look like amateurs either. That damned bounty hunter brought the First Order with him. We can try and go around them.”

Calista turned her gaze towards a small team of troopers –no more than six– wearing black armour with two red stripes on the left side of their breastplates. They unhooked their repelling gear from their armour and mobilised as a unit, lined in perfect formation. From the way they stalked towards them, Calista could tell they were nothing like the run of the mill stormtrooper. This gave her cause for concern, but not enough to make her choose cowering behind feeble cover as an excuse.

Hovering overhead with its shields activated was a scout drone with one eye and no weapons. A watcher.

“Not with that drone we can’t,” Calista clicked her tongue.

Still in the air, the warship swerved around and made back for the tower. It was undoubtedly going after the Somnambulist. Calista’s knuckles popped from the pressure of her shaking fist. She hoped everyone else was alright, but with their comms down all she could do was focus on getting from one second to the next.

Poe’s eyes skittered about in frantic thought, “Maybe if I lay down cover fire, I can distract them long enough for--”

“No. We fight,” she said with an iron will.

Calista refused to lose anyone else. Not today, not ever.

Poe swivelled to face her, “That’s reckless. We’re outnumbered and outgunned. We’ll be sitting ducks.”

“I thought reckless was your modus operandi,” she baited him.

Poe smirked, knowing full well what she was doing, “I’m pretty sure my mission is intrinsic on at least one of us surviving this. There’s no way we both make it out of this if we sta--”

“Then we protect each other.”

“It’s not that simple,” Poe argued, but he could tell she wasn’t going to back down. He sighed, “You’ve already made up your mind, huh?”

Calista nodded, extending her hand for him to take, “So how about it… _commander_?”

He shook his head, a quirk working at his mouth. Then he took her hand and locked their palms into a fist, “We fight.”

Calista eyed Poe’s portable radio hooked onto his belt, a thought bubbling to the surface, “First things first, I need your radio.”

Paige

Paige had not seen so much destruction unfold around her like this since she was a child. Her heart beat so fast and hard it almost hurt. Fire and screeching metal, and thunder and lightning clashed everywhere she looked.

The tower was slowly breaking apart before her eyes. Pieces of the walkway and the outer infrastructure were peeling off the structure like old paint. Her hand ensnared around her pendant. In all the chaos, she found herself thinking of Rose. Her sisters calming memory shook her from her stupor and Paige once again found her bearings.

“Zeeke! Koa! Come in!” she shouted into her static-filled comms. The dread that came with the silence on the other end was nearly paralysing. Her voice turned horse as the heat from the flames too far to burn licked her sweat covered skin, “Come on! Poe! Calista! Anyone! Answer me! Please…”

Paige’s knees threatened to buckle under her. She was alone.

It didn’t help that Mokk-Toh was gone. He had taken a small group of officers to retrieve Calista. Now there was a giant sinkhole devouring the earth in that very direction. Meanwhile, the First Order’s ship had course-corrected and was now racing back in her direction. Everything was escalating too quickly.

Paige’s comms picked up on a signal, choppy and distorted, but active. The slow drawl accompanying the voice was all too familiar.

“Odhen, is that you? Do you copy?” Paige spoke frantically.

“Anyone…read? Get to…Somnambulist…Initiatin’—take-off. Too exposed…” Odhen’s voice fluctuated in and out, but Paige understood enough.

“Hang in there guys,” she spoke up to the tower and then looked to the sinkhole with an apologetic look. She felt like she was abandoning her friends, but there was nothing she could do to help them by standing there.

She sprinted towards the Somnambulist faster than she thought her legs could take her. Her lungs burned and her vision turned blurry but somehow, her legs kept going.

Ton-Ton and Watts waved her on as they waited by the open cargo bay doors. Paige grabbed the droid's arm and he helped her up. Ton-Ton waddled towards the turret controls in the lower levels as soon as he caught wind of the warship flying their way.

The ship shook as it took direct hits from the warships cannons. Paige swayed with the ship, her body collapsing from the loss of balance.

“Hold on!” Odhen’s voice bellowed through the comms as they began their climb. The signal was clearer now, louder.

Suddenly, Paige got an idea and headed towards the communications array panel in the comms room to try and boost their broadcast signal. If she couldn’t help her friends on the ground, she’d sure as hell try to do something while she was up in the air.

“Watts, come with me, I need your help!” She shouted over her shoulder.

Koa

“Gaahhh!” Koa strained as her prosthetic arm shocked her nerves in cycles. Zeeke’s added weight as he dangled above the inferno was tearing at her muscles. Beads of sweat rolled down her face as she gritted her teeth to keep from screaming.

The purple Lichtenberg figures on her neck and arm were pulsating with inorganic current. She felt like a fuse plugged in the wrong way round about to overload. To make matters worse, she was beginning to lose vision in her right eye.

The railing Koa’s prosthetic gripped bent some more and both her and Zeeke were jutted lower, their bodies springing up and down as the railing held on by a compromised joint.

“Hang on!” She shouted.

Zeeke looked down and Koa could almost feel his fear seep into her through their locked arms. When he looked back up at her, his face wore an unsettling expression.

“The railing won’t hold us both,” he said.

“It will.”

A bolt loosened itself from the wall that held the walkway in place. Again, their bodies were jutted lower.

“Koa, you have to—“

“Shut up!” She interjected, refusing to hear what he was trying to say.

At great expense, she swung his body towards the edge of the walkway. The entire structure began to lean away from the walls of the tower. The walkway shook like it was a table balancing on three legs.

Zeeke managed to grab the ledge, just barely. He wrangled himself up and moved closer to help her. Within two steps, the railing snapped and just when Koa thought the worst, Zeeke’s hands had moved fast enough to grab onto her arm. Several bolts popped off the wall and the walkway was now shifting outwards, leaning with their undistributed weight.

Zeeke managed to propel her up and Koa’s feet were now planted on the walkway. Her right eye could hardly see beyond a yellowish haze. She had probably ruptured a vessel. Her prosthetic whined and shook, fingers moving of their own accord. Her entire left shoulder was numb and aching.

“We can’t stay here, come on,” Zeeke pulled Koa’s left arm around his neck and staggered towards the elevator entrance.

With each step, the walkway moved further outward. Sections of the floor falling away and cluttering towards the burning remnants of the bomber below.

Koa’s body began to feel heavy. Too heavy. She couldn’t get her muscles or limbs to cooperate. They were expended. Traumatised from the electric shocks to her brain. Rolling with the punches, an odd smell bombarded her nostrils. It was smelled chemical, but not foul. She found herself drifting between reality and projections of her mind. The floor turned to a beach and then back to metal grating. The skies at once thundering and blackish-blue beamed bright and glorious like a pastel landscape before going dark again.

“Almost there,” Zeeke assured her as the walkway ripped itself completely from the tower. A gap formed between them and the elevator platform. “We’re gonna have to jump!”

Koa fought with her own body, trying to get it to cooperate, but it felt like it was shutting down. The walkway leaned to the side, threatening to collapse completely, swaying on its last legs.

Zeeke let go of her arm and hopped over safely. Koa’s body sagged, her elbow propping her straight.

He stretched his hand out to her, “Take my hand.”

Koa tried to move her good arm, but it was the only thing keeping her from slumping over. Her prosthetic was hot, the metal radiating through her clothing. She hallucinated seeing her father by the elevator’s entrance, free and alive. His hand was stretched out too, calling her toward him.

“Father?” she croaked out. “H-how are…”

Zeeke inched further, ignoring her incoherent babble with panic in his eyes as his fingertips dangled a few inches from her face, “Reach, Koa! Quickly!”

Her eyesight turned blurry, her father’s face morphing with Zeeke’s. Their hands becoming one, outstretched in front of her.

As the walkway finally caved in, Koa used her last coherent thought to force her prosthetic arm to grab onto her father’s –Zeeke’s– arm. With that last command, her brain screamed, her prosthetic powered down and everything turned black.

Zeeke

Zeeke pulled Koa’s body up from the ledge. The walkway groaned as it fell away. He sighed with relief as he watched it tumble down with Koa safely by his side. Except, something wasn’t right. Her body felt lifeless, heavy. Her chest didn’t seem to be moving either. Then she started to convulse against him, eyes rolled to the back of her head.

She was seizing.

Frantically, Zeeke dragged her into the elevator and punched in the number for the ground floor. As the doors sealed around them, blocking off all light, they descended with great speed. Zeeke held Koa’s body beside him. Bracing her arms and keeping her on her side.

He looked around for an emergency kit, but the elevator was too dark to see anything besides the illuminated button panel. He watched each button turn dark one at a time as they passed each level. It was like watching a countdown.

Feeling hopeless, Zeeke tried his comms again, “Paige? Poe? Anyone copy? Koa needs medical assistance.”

Koa’s shaking vibrated through him. He rocked his body in an attempt to soothe her agony, but all it did was make him feel small, child-like. He was reminded of the times he’d sing his brother to sleep when they were children. How he’d shush Gareth’s tears of homesickness away with a lullaby their father sang to them before his passing. The song had become a mantra of sorts. Zeeke could practically picture Gareth whistling the same tune as he worked over a faulty droid. The song was home, in a way.

So that’s what Zeeke did, he began to sing the lullaby as the buttons went dark one by one. A part of him yearned to know what Gareth’s message said. He regretted not listening to it when he had a chance. 

The elevator doors slid open and Zeeke lifted Koa with his lithe muscles. He found himself wishing he’d worked in any area besides mechanics. Then, at least, he’d have the strength to carry her properly.

Light pooled around the towers exit and an odd ease settled over him. The hard part, escaping the tower, was over.

Without warning, as Zeeke embraced the sour notes of acid hanging in the air, his comms came on: “Zeeke, do you copy? It’s Paige.”

Relief sparked inside him as a shaky laugh trickled out, “Paige, by the stars!”

“Oh, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear your voice!” Paige let out a breathy laugh of her own. “Where are you?”

“Base of the tower. I’m alright, but Koa’s hurt. Bad.”

“We’ll come round and get you once we shake this bogey off our tail,” the communication line cut out briefly and Paige let out a grunt when they came back on.

“You okay?” Zeeke asked as he lowered Koa onto the floor. Thankfully, her shaking had almost stopped. He hoped that was a good sign.

Paige swallowed loudly, trying hard to steady her breathing, “We’re fine grease grunt. I—Uh… _We_ need you to do something. We need you to boost our comms signal from the ground. The Somnambulist can barely penetrate through this storm, it’s a miracle I managed to hail you. Poe and the others are out of range.”

“I can’t leave Koa,” Zeeke protested.

“If we don’t get our comms working the others won’t be able to call for help!”

There was an assertiveness to Paige’s voice that Zeeke had never heard before, a cold edge that he would often hear in his compatriots from his life before the Resistance. A coldness that enveloped his brother. A coldness he himself once held.

Zeeke was conflicted. Looking at Koa, he knew leaving her alone would be the same as a death sentence, but he also knew that leaving the others without a way to call for help would be just as condemning.

His mouth went dry, “Alright, what’dya need?”

The signal turned weak, Paige’s instructions came in fragmented and off-key: “Refueller landed—techs set—signal boosters. Look for— active beacon. Sending link—datapad. Good luck.”

“Paige, you’re breaking up,” Zeeke covered one ear to try and hear better but it was no use. He’d lost Paige’s comms signal, and as though things weren’t already going from bad to worse, a droplet of rain sizzled against the sand outside.

The rain had been on the brink for far too long, with that one single droplet, thousands more followed, making the sand protest with a nefarious hiss as the acid reacted with the silica.

A precursor to worse things, lightning struck repeatedly, this time hitting the side of another airborne bomber. The ship started spinning out of control until it was lost to the dark clouds on the horizon. 

Zeeke checked his datapad for the nearest active signal booster. The map measured the distance as less than half a kilometre. First, he had to make sure Koa was someplace safe before leaving. The control room was his best bet.

Stretching his back, Zeeke carried Koa off to the control room and set her down near one of the terminals. The room was cold and since Koa’s body temperature had dropped drastically, he figured she’d need additional warmth. He spotted the large tapestry that hung on the walls and fished his concealed knife from his boot to slice across the heavy material. He laid the fabric over Koa’s body and tucked a few strands away from her sweaty face.

“Whatever luck I have left, I hope it rubs off,” Zeeke placed his knife by her side and activated the emergency transponder on her comms. “Hold on. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

Koa’s eyes were still shut.

Making every second count, he sprinted for the exit once more and stepped out into the tempestuous environment. Zeeke pulled his hood over his head and covered half his face with his grease rag to protect against the acid rain.

Mokk-Toh

Mokk-Toh shook the sand from his hair. The sinkhole had swallowed him and the few officers he’d set off with into the ground where the dead ships from battles past slept. Mud formed around his open palms as the acid bit at his gloves.

With a groan, he picked himself up and checked to see if there were any other survivors. He felt only one presence. One officer half-drowned in mud stirred. Mokk-Toh reached over and dragged him into the cradle of a black crevice.

From inside, he could smell a dampness that hugged the slick walls of glassy, black stone. The sinkhole had fed them into an old tunnel system. The branching pathways were plenty, but that was a problem to worry about later. 

“Boy, can you hear me?” Mokk-Toh asked as he tapped on the young man’s face.

“Tao,” the officer shifted and groaned, eyelids fluttering. “My name’s Everen Tao.”

“Can you stand, Everen?”

The officer painfully sucked in air when his torso folded as he tried to stand. His hand braced his side instantly. A tweak of his muscles made his nostrils curl.

Mokk-Toh’s hands hovered over Everen’s torso. The energy around it was beaten and raw. Even though Mokk-Toh couldn’t see the wound, he could sense it.

“You’ve fractured your ribs,” Mokk-Toh stated. “Take it slow.”

Everen stared at him but didn’t ask the obvious question on his mind. In fact, he didn’t ask any questions, even about any other survivors. He knew he was the only one. There was no need for verbal confirmation. Like the good soldier he was, he stiffened his lip and controlled his breathing. 

It occurred to Mokk-Toh that the young man with the broken ribs was probably accustomed to losing people –or losing in general. Burdens of his trade no doubt.

“We need to regroup with whoever’s left,” Everen said, looking at the small pool of muddy water forming at their feet. “Climbing’s off the table.”

Everen switched through different channels on his comm-link. Each response was the reply of an open frequency.

Mokk-Toh knew the only way out was through the tunnels, “We go forward,” he said as he stared into the darkness. The darkness was so pure that he felt it look back. It had no eyes, no mouth, and no face to speak of, and yet, somehow, it bore the faint whispers of people past.

Skirting behind the curtain of darkness was the feeling of Lenora’s warm eyes welcoming him home from a successful mission. Beyond that was the turmoil and fear that clung to his former admiral’s body when they had been ambushed. Further still was something far more sinister. A humming rage that screamed to be confronted, a predator lying in wait, past the network of interconnected tunnels.

Thunder cracked so fiercely that a piece of rock chipped off the slippery mud wall surrounding them.

“Who knows where those tunnels lead. Without a map we could risk getting lost,” Everen said.

“No more lost than we already are,” Mok-Toh said as he took the first step into the darkness. It engulfed him whole, like a sentient cloud.

Everen couldn’t feel what Mokk-Toh felt was waiting for them beyond the blackness of the tunnels, but his entire body was surrounded by neurotic energy, uncertainty.

Mokk-Toh had to trust in a grander design than his own. Like a small cog in a larger machine with greater roles to play, he would let fate decide their fortunes.

Everen sighed but followed suit, his torch provided scarcely any lighting. They stayed by each other’s side, aware of the other by the sound of their breathing and the different sounds of each boot. Soon the tunnel came to a four-way branch.

Each potential path held a different temperature. Everen pointed out that the warmest draft lead back to the surface, but the path running straight through smelled of rain and fuel, and Mokk-Toh knew the storm had chased away any residual heat on the surface.

“We keep forward,” Mokk-Toh said.

“How can you be so sure?”

None of the other pathways carried that enraged spark that ran beneath his feet like a primordial compass. His bones whispered for him to go forward and he wouldn’t fight it. Still, it couldn’t hurt to be sure.

Mokk-Toh closed his eyes and let his other senses examine the three other pathways. One was without a distinction, neither smell nor sound nor touch was invigorated. The other held a stale, warm smell of decomposition –the heat Everen had spoken of. The air around the third one made the hairs on Mokk-Toh’s nape stand erect.

There was an ancient tension that shivered through a cold breeze cascading down the tunnel. It carried with it a sickly disposition. Something wrong and splintered had burrowed deep into the earth here and it cried out inaudibly, attacking every sense except the ear until gooseflesh spread throughout his body. That way was not meant for him. It was not meant for any of them.

“Forward,” Mokk-Toh said without a doubt.

After a while, light began to speckle at the base of the tunnel, illuminating red soil spilling out into the open. They had found a way out. The soil was softer than that above, a river had once spilt out here. Mokk-Toh realised the tunnels weren’t tunnels at all, they were dried-out aquifers.

Everen’s breath hitched in his throat once he stepped out into the open. A beastly ship cast a long shadow over the ground.

“What took you so long?” Versengen sat cross-legged with two swords braced in his hands. His armour sagging into the muddy ground.

Mokk-Toh didn’t answer. He had expected this.

Versengen stood and threw a sword at Mokk-Toh’s feet. “In your haste to leave Takodana, you forgot this.”

“Let the boy go, your quarrel is with me,” Mokk-Toh tried to bargain for Everen’s safety.

Versengen scoffed, “I know who my quarrel is with, old man. I don’t care what happens to the boy, he’s not my concern.”

Everen gave Mokk-Toh a reluctant look, the soldier in him didn’t want to run from a fight, but he knew as plain as day that this fight was one he wasn’t meant to fight. With a curt nod, Everen clumsily half-ran in the sticky mud and headed back in the direction of the tower.

Mokk-Toh picked up his sword. The heft and lightness to it were as comforting as a blanket in cold weather.

Versengen activated the shield generator he’d set up at the heart of the valley and a wall of blue shielding fell in a dome-like fashion, protecting them both from the burn of acid.

“Any last remarks before we settle this?” Versengen asked.

“How much is my bounty worth?”

Versengen laughed his torn laugh, “You have to know thiswas never _just _about the bounty.”

“Then why did you wait so long?”

“Maybe I was waiting for chaos!” He lifted his hands as though to embrace the lightning sparking in the dark clouds overhead. “Maybe it was because I had to put myself back together again. Piece by piece. From one waking nightmare to the next. ”

Pain splintered into Mokk-Toh’s larynx, “I see.”

“I have a question of my own,” Versengen’s monotone fluctuated. “Do you regret it?”

Mokk-Toh tightened his grip on his sword.

Versengen moved closer, sword pointing accusingly at his rival’s chest, “Do you regret leaving me to die on that forsaken planet?”

“I didn’t know you survi—“

“You knew! You knew and you left anyway.”

“My duty was to protect the crown. There was no choice to make.”

“Duty…” Versengen said the word with such great disdain it might as well have been a curse. “Spare me your rehearsed speeches about honour and duty. I know you better than that.”

“I had to protect _her_.”

“And what of those men who died by that blockade? Where was your duty to them?”

Mokk-Toh snapped, his voice mirroring Versengen’s intensity for the briefest second, “We all swore an oath! We all knew the risk!”

“To hell with your oath. You left us to die after you lead us to the slaughter!” The blade in Versengen’s hand shook, rattling like a frantic child, “I used to think you were the best of us. Now I can see you were simply a coward, too selfish to see past your own desires.”

There it was. The truth Mokk-Toh had been too weak to face. The bitter sting of disgust in Versengen’s words pierced deep. Mokk-Toh was relieved he couldn't see Versengen's eyes, but he could still picture them narrow-thin like fabric slits, peering at him -through him.

Solemly, he replied: “I…I’m sorry.”

Versengen’s voice returned to its eerie monotone, “We are who we are. Apologies don’t change that. So, I’ll ask you again. Do you regret it?”

With shame, Mokk-Toh lowered his head, “No.”

The rage that was always so raw and open around Versengen’s mangled aura simmered out. In its place was the after taste of sorrow and betrayal.

The feeling was so intense Mokk-Toh’s eyes grew dry, waiting to shed a tear for the man that no longer existed beneath the bounty hunter’s helmet. The man he had killed all those years ago.

Versengen inhaled deeply like a weight had been lifted from his chest, “I thought so.”

Thunder broke from above just as battle broke out below. Blow for blow, Mokk-Toh warded off Versengen’s frightening strength with agility. Their swords clashed in sparks. Once again, like mirrors of the other, they fought with a deeper connection than either acknowledged.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[Rural Fire Brigades](https://www.rfs.nsw.gov.au/volunteer/support-your-local-brigade)** are often more than just an emergency service. They can also be a vital community service, provide a community meeting point or offer assistance with non-emergency roles.
> 
> **[Supporting bushfire-affected communities in NSW, QLD and SA](https://www.redcross.org.au/campaigns/disaster-relief-and-recovery-bushfires?gclid=EAIaIQobChMI9e_Oj7rh5QIVBRqPCh1Upw8JEAAYASAAEgKAXPD_BwE)  
**  
:_ More than 160 Red Cross emergency personnel – mostly volunteers – have been on the ground in 35 relief and evacuation centres across New South Wales, Queensland and South Australia. They are welcoming and supporting people at evacuation centres and recovery hubs, providing psychological first aid and offering information and practical support. We are running [Register.Find.Reunite](https://register.redcross.org.au/) to help people get in touch with their loved ones._


	14. Reckoning Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I know I said there was only _one_ chapter for the Telos excursion left, but technically it is one chapter since I'll be posting the second half of this chapter in a few hours, I just have to edit it. We're in the final stretch now, according to my story plot-outline anyway (And considering the Telos storyline was only meant to be two chapters long at the most... it's safe to say this section got away from me). I had hoped to have this series close to a conclusion before **RoS** premiers but that's a pipe-dream now since I'm gonna be working on updating one of my older fics and doing dissertation research.
> 
> On a separate note, I listen to an all-instrumental playlist when I write and I found myself playing this [one song the most](https://open.spotify.com/track/3x2y8RQKKiST9uEsZYt13k?si=9PfxZHzHQS6qLgWmzt983w). I highly recommend listening to the song while reading. If you don't have Spotify its **Ark Persuit** by _Stephen Barton_  
**  
**  
****
>
>>   
_I hope these two chapters keep you on the edge of your seat. If not... meh, it's a learning curve. Comments and criticism are always welcome. I'd love to know which characters you love so far and why. ♥_  


Koa

Koa could feel the familiar tug of nausea sloshing about in her stomach. It was the kind of sensation that came with take-off, which didn’t make any sense because she was still in the tower. Still on Telos. Wasn’t she?

The first of her senses to return was auditory. She could hear the controlled breathing of a few people. She wasn’t alone, and with that realisation, a striking sense of Déjà vu hit her. She’d been here before, in this predicament. Trapped in her own mind. Unable to speak or move or see.

The sound of a drill and the clank of something heavy falling away alarmed her, but not enough to cause a panic. Anxious Jawaese trickled out between each whirr of the drill.

“I _am_ being careful. I’m a droid. My arms were designed to be steady,” Watts said condescendingly. Ton-Ton replied with a worried quiver in contrast to his usual no-nonsense tone.

When the drill stopped, Koa felt lighter and then her sense of touch was awoken by the feeling of something cold, thick and gelatinous being applied to her stump. She could feel her stump! She didn’t have her prosthetic anymore.

“I’m going to start weaning her off the anaesthesia now,” Watts said. Suddenly medical equipment started chiming out. Koa’s head began to clear. It was becoming easier to hold a thought. Then she heard a sharp inhale, the kind that signified pain or discomfort.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Paige’s voice was heavy, burdened.

A pause filled the room, followed by another sharp inhale.

“It’s fine. Can’t damage my shoulder any worse than it already is,” Poe replied without his usual light-hearted bravado.

“Alright, you’re all patched up. Try not to move it too much. The medi-gel on this ship is outdated, healing will take longer,” Paige informed him.

Poe grunted, the sound of his footsteps retreating echoed softly thereafter. Paige sighed. “Alright–Everen, was it?–let’s take a look at those ribs,” she said with no trace of emotion.

“Tao if you like. I have no preference,” a strange man’s voice replied. It was filled with weak pleasantry. The lightness of his voice made Koa think he was probably smiling the way acquaintances do when they pass each other in a hallway. He hissed in pain.

Paige mumbled more to herself than to the strange man, “I’ll see if I can find some anaesthetic spray for these burns.”

_Why did everyone sound so defeated? _Koa thought.

Before an answer could be given, a smell snaked its way into her nose. It was like rain only more bitter and earthier; mud. The smell was accompanied by another, one that clung to every hospital, medical ward and clinic she’d ever stepped into: antiseptic.

Koa realised that she had heard everyone’s voices apart from Odhen, Calista, Mokk-Toh and Zeeke. If she really was on the ship that meant Odhen was flying it. And from the sound of the medical equipment and the smells she picked up on, she was most probably in the med-bay. Logic dictated that she wouldn’t hear Odhen in that case.

As for Mokk-Toh, he rarely spoke unless spoken to, so his silence was expected. But Zeeke always had something to say. Just a few hours ago she couldn’t get him to stay quiet for longer than an elevator ride. What worried her the most was that she couldn’t sense Calista. The two of them had always shared a deep connection since childhood. They always knew when the other was in the room. It was an inexplicable thing, a sort of intrinsic intimacy afforded to them by years of being in each other’s close perimeter.

Her heart rate skyrocketed. The medical machines beeped at alarming tones. Too many people started talking all at once and Koa didn’t have the mind to try and place a voice to a face.

“Is she alright?”

“Her vitals are off the charts.”

“We should probably put her under again.”

_No! _Koa’s mind screamed. _I’m not going under again!_

“No use. She’s waking up. Now.”

“Who’s going to tell her?”

“Baby steps.”

Something wasn’t right. Where were Zeeke and Calista? What didn’t she know? What had happened after she had passed out on the tower?

Odhen

The Somnambulist whined with age every time a shot from the warship’s cannons landed a hit. Odhen had to stop himself from grimacing each time the ship rattled or swayed. Alarms and flashing lights kept coming alive one after the other on his dash. Nothing vital was damaged, that was the only good news.

“Shorty, shake that bird off my tail already!” He blared into his headset as he pulled the ship into a U-turn manoeuvre. Ton-Ton’s voice drilled into his ear at an uncomfortably high pitch as he shouted over the sound of the ship's cannons charging up, firing and winding down in repeated cycles.

Odhen scoffed, ignoring the beads of sweat hanging from his lashes, “If you think you can do a better job of flyin’ why don’t you get your scrawny ass up here then?”

The warship fired at the Somnambulist’s thrusters and Odhen had to nose dive close to a mountain peak to avoid the shot. The bottom of the hull grazed a layer of hard rock and the whole ship vibrated.

“Easy girl, just a bit of chipped paint. Nothin’ a new coat can’t fix.” Odhen steered the ship skyward again. The drag from their cargo weight burned more fuel than he was comfortable with, it also slowed their ascension. Evading the warship was proving to be a challenge.

Ton-Ton yelped over his headset, shouting protests for Odhen to be more careful and not wreck their ship. Paige was on another channel that kept breaking up and interrupting their ships comms with bursts of static. Two flashes of bright light shone through the dark canopy of clouds and a boom of lightning followed soon after. If a ship was struck by even one of those bolts it would overload the engines or worse. Odhen didn’t like being so close to unchecked lightning, but navigating in low altitude was too risky for the Somnambulist, she simply wasn’t built for close-quarter manoeuvres.

Several shots zoomed past the windshield in red streaks. Their shields barely had enough breathing room to recharge before a second barrage bombarded the ship. The warship was locked onto their tail. No more cannon fire though. That couldn’t mean anything good.

All of a sudden, the dash started beeping ominously. Torpedo lock. If Odhen didn’t pull a miracle out of his ass, and soon, they’d all be space dust.

“Ah, shit! Hang on, we got torpedo lock!” He informed the others. “I’m gon’ try and shake ‘em.”

Odhen’s eyes searched the dark clouds up above and got the inklings of a terrible idea. Meanwhile, the beeping kept chiming out closer together, warning of the imminent danger. “Everybody strap in! We’re climbin’!”

Ton-Ton shouted more profanities over the comms and Paige kept listing all the things that would happen if they got too close to the lightning, none of it good.

Isolated in the cockpit, Odhen pulled out the photograph tucked warmly in his jacket’s pocket and placed it on his dash in front of him. With a deep breath, he yanked the nav-stick as far back as he could and forced the ship to climb at a sharp angle. The entire framework shook as the Somnambulist fought against the drag. The thrusters sputtered angrily, puffing up pockets of smoke. Through the windshield, Odhen could see the static from the charged clouds form a cushion around his ships frame. It looked like a force-field surrounded by fog. The effect was strangely beautiful.

After a turbulent climb, the ship rose high through the black clouds to bask in the previously blocked sunlight. By some miracle, no lightning had touched them. The warship, on the other hand, no longer registered on his sensors. Over the comms, Ton-Ton cheered triumphantly at something Odhen hadn’t seen. The warship had not been as lucky, it had been struck down.

Odhen breathed a sigh of relief as he wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. He looked down at his photograph, blocking out the cheers rolling out through his headset and said privately, “Looks like I’m not joinin’ you just yet.”

He stared at his son’s wide smile and felt the impulse to reciprocate it, but the guilt of having survived yet again kept his cheek muscles slack.

“Alright, let’s turn this hunk of junk around and get back to the surface. I’ve completely lost Zeeke’s comm signal. We’re too high up,” Paige said softly. Odhen could practically picture her smiling from the shift in her voice.

He scanned the clear horizon, thankful for a change of scenery besides the bluish-black of the clouds beneath them. Odhen would have happily forgotten about the terrible weather had thunder not rumbled a second later.

Several bomber ships had broken through the exosphere, leaving only two close enough to see with his own eyes, just below the thermosphere. Without warning, the ship’s sensors beeped again. Radar had picked up on something close by. A second beep sounded out. There were now two _something’s _close by. One was heading their way. The other was racing towards the last two bomber ships in sight. And they both had the same signature as the warship he’d narrowly avoided.

“I am not gettin’ paid enough for this,” Odhen said in frustration before relaying the bad news to his crew. “We’re not outta the muck yet. Shorty, be ready.”

“Sod it! Can nothing be easy?” Paige huffed. Ton-Ton returned her sentiments.

The silence hanging over the comms made Odhen feel tense. The warship coming towards them was no longer a dot on a screen, it was growing larger, moving faster, but it hadn’t gone on the defensive. It just kept getting closer and closer and closer, until finally… it moved past them. Odhen made an abrupt turn to miss colliding with the warships razor-thin wings. Paige had the wind knocked out of her over the comms. When she came to, she asked: “What in the blazes just happened?”

The warship was gone from his radar, “Guess we weren’t the target. I’ve got nothin’ on radar. We must have lost their signal to cloud coverage.”

“Wait… that means the ship is descending,” Paige took a moment to understand the reasoning. “That means its heading for the surface. We have to go after it!”

In the distance, one of the bomber ships took catastrophic damage to its rear thrusters and started slowing its ascension. If Odhen didn’t do anything, they’d lose another bomber. They’d lose more soldiers.

“Odhen!” Paige tried to get his attention over the comms. “Turn this ship around! If we don’t go after that warship the others will…”–she swallowed loudly–“It had to have been called down by a ground party. Zeeke hasn’t gotten the comms booster up and running yet. They could need an assist. We have to—“

Paige kept pleading her case, trying to convince him to go after the other ship. But looking at that bomber get hammered by advanced weaponry shook the rebel inside him –the starved soldier who had been repressed for far too long. This wasn’t something he could pretend to not care about. He knew what had to be done and he hated how easy it was for him to switch back into his old skin. “The mission was retrievin’ all twelve bombers. We’ve already lost three. Zeeke will get the comms booster workin’. We have to trust they’ll do their part. This ship is the only form of defence those bombers have.”

“We can’t just—“

“We can and we will,” Odhen sounded authoritative, his drawl recoiling as the force in his words made him enunciate more clearly. He pushed forward and glided the Somnambulist towards the red splashes of cannon fire impacting with the bombers. “Time to pull another miracle out our asses.”

Poe

Calista eyed his portable radio hooked onto his belt. He could practically see her thoughts bubble to the surface, “First things first, I need your radio.”

Poe unhooked it from his belt and offered it to her freely, adding: “I don’t see what good it’ll do if our comms still can’t get through.”

She smiled coyly, “We don’t need to broadcast long-range. Our comms can still transmit shortwave transmissions.” She calibrated the radio to match her comms signal and then looked him in the eye. “I’m gonna cause a little distraction to draw them to the centre. Then, when I give the signal, you flank left and I’ll flank right.”

Poe had a semblance of an idea what she was up to, but not a coherent plan as yet. He didn’t like the thought of her trying to sneak past the six troopers on her own. For one, they didn’t move like regular troopers. And for another, their armour looked thick. Maybe too thick for regular blasters. Rain pitter-pattered on the roof of their pitiful shelter. Had they been in a less dangerous situation, he would have found that sound to be lulling, ambient. Unfortunately, the crunch of the trooper’s boots circling the ground prevented him from relaxing.

“Let me do it,” he offered.

Calista placed her hand on his shoulder, probably to try and quell any worries he had. It worked, albeit poorly. “I’m smaller and lighter on my feet. Besides, I’ve already calibrated the radio to my comms frequency.”

An uncomfortable tightness formed in his chest, but Poe ignored it and decided to follow her lead. He nodded in quiet agreement. And there it was again. Another dangerous reminder of how alike Calista’s temperament was to Leia’s.

She turned around and peeked through an opening where part of a shipwreck had broken apart on impact with the ground. Before she took another step, she abruptly turned around as if she’d forgotten something. “Oh, by the way. Here”—she pulled out two questionable looking grenades from her thigh strap.

Poe took them gingerly, not wanting to set them off. “Where did…?”

“After Takodana…it doesn’t hurt to always be prepared,” Calista double-checked her blaster for no reason. She’d already checked it earlier, she knew it would work. Maybe she just couldn't remain still. “Remember, blue trigger is for the flash grenade. Red is for ion.”

Out of habit, he checked his own blaster to make sure it wasn’t set to stun, pocketing the grenades. “Blue, flash. Red, ion. Got it.”

Calista patted his forearm twice before sneaking around from one section of cover to the next. Thunder rumbled around him, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins forced his senses to think only of the troopers slowly sweeping the area.

The acid clinging to the humid air scratched at his nose, making it feel itchy and irritated. He knew the skin above his upper lip was most likely red. He ran his hand over his scruff in mild appreciation of what little protection it provided his skin. He peeped through an opening to observe the troopers.

There were six troopers. Moving in formations of two, never further than a few meters from each other. Which meant when the shooting started, one would go high while the other went low. If all six were cornered, they’d form a triangular formation. Three high, three low, all with their backs to each other.

One of the troopers hunkering low glanced at a small terminal strapped to his arm. There was a thin antenna protruding from his helmet. Poe guessed that was their slicer. The slicer was just close enough to hear. “Drone’s having a hard time broadcasting, sir. The storms making it hard to get a clear bird’s eye.”

“Are we still broadcasting?” a trooper with a red stripe on his helmet asked. He was probably their leader.

The slicer replied after a second glance to his datapad, “Yes, sir.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” their leader said. He glanced at the tower, its peak fractured in half. “Contact Sentinel Two. Have a team sweep that tower.”

The slicer worked in silent compliance.

“Visual is slowing us down, sir,” one of the troopers said formally. Their voice was altered by the mask, but it sounded noticeably feminine. The trooper had a long-scoped rifle fixed to her back. She was probably the team’s sniper. “Should I switch to thermal?”

_Thermal, that’s not good. _Poe hoped she was the only one retrofitted with an environmental visor.

“Come on, come on,” Poe’s leg was twitching. Whatever Calista’s plan was, their window was narrowing.

Before the team leader could answer, Calista’s voice trickled out from behind the metal framework of a large destroyer’s broken-off wing. The team leader lifted a fist in the air. The troopers froze in place. With hand signals, their leader ordered them to converge on the sound of Calista’s voice.

Poe’s initial reflex was to try and draw their attention away from her, but once that gut-punch reaction died out, he finally realized what the plan was. Poe moved to a section of cover that better allowed him to crouch and fire. His eyes viciously scanned the area for Calista around all the possible hiding places scattered throughout the ship graveyard. He noticed her hand wave from behind cover opposite his position. Calista signalled a countdown.

Five. Poe aimed his gun at the converging troopers. Four. The slicer shouted out in warning: “It’s a decoy!” Three. The troopers huddled in formation. Two. Poe’s finger rested securely on the trigger. One. Calista hurled a grenade at the troopers.

A strong pulse pushed all heavily armoured troopers into the wall of the buried destroyer wing. Electricity sizzled in the air. Shocks traversed the length of each of the troopers, their armour slickened by the rain till the matte black looked almost shiny. The hand terminal on the slicers arm overloaded in a pathetic explosion. He screamed as his hand was blown away. Their medic scurried to attend to the slicer’s bloody arm.

A second later there was an exchange of blaster fire. Streaks of red-hot blasts fought against the humidity in the air. Each bolt of plasma causing untouched raindrops to evaporate instantly. The leader ordered one of his men to form a barricade. A trooper wearing a heavy pack unhooked it and dug it into the ground with one grunt-worthy thrust. A wall formed around them, slightly translucent with a bluish hue; a deflector shield. It seemed the team had a bulwark amongst their ranks.

“Blast!” Poe swore as he tried to find a weak spot in their armour to no avail. His blaster bolts simply pinged off the troopers as if he was hurling rocks at them.

Poe took inventory of each of the trooper’s designations so far. The slicer was out of commission, but his drone still hovered in the sky. The smallest of the six applying a field stim to the slicer’s arm appeared to be their medic. The sniper had armed herself with her rifle and looked through her scope, lying in wait for the perfect shot. The bulwark kept the shields charged by keeping the powerlines attached to a battery pack on his back. The leader was firing off shots in Poe’s direction, his heavy artillery weapon ripping holes through Poe’s cover. Which left one more. But Poe only counted five troopers before he was forced to dive for different cover, throwing a flash grenade to aid his disappearance.

After trying his comms again and getting nothing but white noise in response, Poe made his way towards Calista’s last position.

Paige

Paige had her fists balled so tightly her nails dug crescent moons into her palms. She was seething at Odhen for making the choice to engage the other warship on his own, but this was his ship and she was simply along for the ride. She bottled up her frustrations and channelled them towards keeping the ships comm-laser manually fixed on target.

Turns out the other warship had damaged the Somnambulist’s torpedoes guidance system with one of its many well-placed shots before being zapped out of the sky. Now Paige had to use the laser as a makeshift pointer for their torpedoes to follow. The task was proving to be extremely difficult, even if it had been her idea. They were down to one torpedo and they had already lost another bomber. There was only one torpedo left. Intended for one advanced warship with terrifyingly strong shields. Said torpedo was meant to protect the last bomber yet to reach the stars.

“Keep that laser steady, Paige!” Odhen huffed in a vexed manner.

“It’s not as easy as it looks!” she shouted back as she struggled to keep the math balanced and checked. The angles had to be as accurate as possible.

Watts handled the bulk of the data streaming from the trajectory plotting terminal and ensured that Paige would only have to deal with the vital mechanics of their scrapped together targeting system.

The ship rattled and several lights changed to red within the corridors. Paige kept her body steady by holding onto an overhead grip as she stared at the communications data streaming over the outdated terminal.

“Keep the ship steady,” she spoke to Odhen over her comms. “We have to recalibrate every time you deviate!”

“I _have _to deviate, it’s called flying!” Odhen barked back.

Paige rolled her eyes before she saw Ton-Ton waddle down towards the cockpit through the open door panel. His red trolley was piled with extinguishers and repair tools. The warships shields were practically impregnable for the Somnambulist’s overheated cannons. Ton-Ton’s job as cannoneer was rendered obsolete in this battle. His new job was patching up the small tears that could turn into big ones if left unchecked.

“Alright, this is as steady as she’ll hold. It’s now or never, Tico!”

Paige’s eyelids fluttered energetically. There was too much adrenaline in her system. Narrowing down the firing coordinates was trickier knowing this was their last shot. “Watts, I need you to clear up these equations a little more buddy.”

“I. Am. Trying.” The droid’s soundbox was fatigued.

Odhen ground his teeth loud enough to hear over the comms, “That pretty warship won’t fly straight forever!”

“We’re working on it!” Paige tapped her nails repeatedly on the terminal edges. When the sound bothered her too much she defaulted to holding her pendant. There were simply too many variables. Air pressure. Wind speed. Distance. The angles. Holding the laser pointer steady. Paige felt like a kid back in school trying to solve equations in front of all the other smarter, brainier kids.

A spark fired off in the back of Watts’s head. Paige was startled. Then she noticed the variables decrease. Instantly, she inputted the data and cheered. “Yes! Alright, we got it. Fire when ready.”

“Torpedo away,” Odhen said.

Paige took a breath, then held it. No confirmation. She released it and took another breath.

“Bullseye!” Odhen exclaimed. Paige was about to slump onto the floor when she heard him swear for the hundredth time barely a handful of seconds later. “That damned ship is still flying. The shields absorbed the damage!”

Paige unhooked Watts from the terminal and put him in standby mode. When she was certain he wasn’t damaged beyond repair she raced towards the cockpit on wobbly legs while the Somnambulist tilted endlessly like a swing blowing in violent winds. If that warship was still flying, she had to see it for herself.

Odhen’s large hands held onto the nav-stick as though they were glued down. His eyes were glassy and large, staring down at an old photograph as if it would provide divine providence. She hoped he wasn’t praying. She never saw Odhen as the praying type. The simple thought made her almost accept their fate as unequivocally fucked.

“What do we do?” she spoke to him face to face.

He snapped his head back to the sky when a warning chime shook him from his stupor, “That was the last of our defences. All I can do is try and stay on its tail. Ahead of its guns.”

Paige couldn’t keep herself stable by grabbing onto the walls anymore, her arms were tired. She didn’t want to go back to the comms room either. If this was the end, she wanted to be near someone. She slid into the co-pilots chair and buckled in. “What about the cannons?”

“If a torpedo couldn’t—?” Odhen bit his tongue. “They’d overheat before we laid a dent.”

“This ship is a death trap. There’s gotta be something we haven’t considered…” Paige wracked her brain.

The warship dived and re-emerged, firing off rounds at the interval of a gattling gun.

Odhen cut off the thrusters and turned sharply, directing them up and over instead of to the side, “You got any bright ideas, now would be the time!”

Paige flashed back to the moment she had found Zeeke knee-deep in the trash shoot. Their conversation about the ships use of flammable gas replaying on a loop. “Xernon.” She muttered.

“The gas?” Odhen’s brows crinkled.

Paige yanked the collar of Odhen’s tiny jacket, making him let out sounds of protest. “We need to let the warship get behind us.”

Odhen pulled free from her grip and shook his shoulders till the jacket straightened out, “With our shields down our fuel tank is exposed. One well-placed shot and—”

Paige ignored him, focusing instead on getting Ton-Ton to return to his seat behind the ship's cannons, “Ton-Ton I need you below deck. We’re gonna need you on those cannons.”

The Jawa dropped his tool kit and left the exposed wiring he was working on and waddled away while prattling energetically. Paige couldn’t tell if the Jawa was protesting or agreeing but from Odhen’s displeased head tilt, she guessed it was the latter.

Odhen slowed the ships speed to let the warship get around them. “Are you going to fill me in, kid?”

From the distracting lights flashing over several screens, Paige could tell their shields were depleted and one of their thrusters was hanging on by a thread. Paranoid, she placed her hands under her thighs. One wrong flip switch and the ship could tear apart. Paige wasn’t taking any chances. She cleared her throat, “How is your trash dispensed?”

“Ejectable compressed cubes. Why? You planning on throwing trash cans at a First Order warship?” He grumbled patronisingly.

Paige smiled a toothy smile that almost felt like she’d been possessed by Zeeke’s overly positive nature, “Exactly. We need to stop trying to outmanoeuvre a ship built to outmanoeuvre us and let it get near enough so we can eject those cubes.”

Odhen’s eyes were wide for a different reason now. He understood Paige’s train of thought. “The gas is explosive. If we time it right…”

“Ton-Ton can use those square-shaped mines as target practice.”

Odhen’s face was pulled tight by his impressed smile. Paige felt both honoured and surprised she was responsible for making the old pilot’s facial muscles work so hard.

“Shorty,” he hailed Ton-Ton. “You get all that?” The Jawa replied with a peppy tone. That probably meant yes.

“Okay girl,” Odhen flipped several switches, muting the alarms flashing around him and patted the dash affectionately. “Let’s show these guys what our old bones can do.”

A ping made her datapad go haywire. It was a signal. It wasn’t any signal, it was Zeeke’s. He’d done it. He’d gotten the comms working.

“Zeeke?” Paige spoke into her comms once she switched to the wide receiver channel. The signal was flimsy at best. Breaking apart and scattering to static in cyclical intervals. She heard faint sounds that resembled Zeeke’s voice in the background, but nothing concrete. Paige readjusted her wavelength until the signal grew stronger, then a stranger’s voice came through panicked and hoarse.

“Somnambulist…do you copy? We need medical assistance…”

The colour drained from Paige’s face.

_To be continued..._


	15. Reckoning Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying something new and adding a character commentary section in the End Notes where I talk about some of my characters. It won't be at the end of every chapter though, only those that I feel would help further the story or plot direction.
> 
> Also, Versengen's identity isn't revealed despite what happens because its seen through Mokk-Toh's eyes and make of that what you will. I did promise a revelation, and it will come, just not from Mokk-Toh's POV. Incase you fancy some audio mixed with your reading, I heard this score and _knew_ it was perfect as [**Versengen's theme**](https://open.spotify.com/track/0HrfbAqiPhHprUgYbnSCxk?si=FVH-HhqGQyS-Dxh449lOPQ)
>
>> Some clarifications: **Bulwarks** already exists in Star Wars lore as Mon-Calamari cruisers, if I'm not mistaken. However, I'm using the term _bulwark_ in lieu of _'tank'_ (a heavy armour class in videogames). Essentially, a bulwark is just a really large trooper that takes the brunt of damage in battle.  
**Slicer** is a term used for stormtroopers (or clones) whose speciality is hacking or working in technological sabotage.

Zeeke

By the time Zeeke reached the transponder signal for the comms booster, he was drenched, cold and trying to ignore the burn stinging at his face and skin. He could feel tremors beneath his feet every time lightning struck the tower. His datapad kept rebooting from the surges of electro-static current generated by the tower. He was glad he had found the comms booster when he did, the storm had gotten malicious.

The comms device was secured in place by four prongs drilled into the ground. It was surrounded by refuelling gear that never got loaded back onto the ships. There were several canisters of compressed cooling gas, used to keep the refueller’s systems from overheating, stored beneath opaque plastic-sheeted tents. Standing a little further were two fuel reserve tanks large enough to fill the space in the Somnambulist’s cargo bay.

Mud pulled around his dirty boots, slowing his pace as he made his way to the comms booster. He tried to activate it with his datapad but it was still booting up and the device’s exterior interface was fritzing out.

“Son of a bantha! I’ve been to some shit holes in my day. But _you_, you big, brown planet with your angry rain and lightning storms…you take the cake,” Zeeke openly fumed and then he reached into his satchel and pulled out a screwdriver and wire clippers. Once he’d removed the panel covering the internal wiring he managed to switch the device on after tampering with it for a bit.

Gradually, the device hummed to life. A yellow light flashed next to a symbol that looked like a power core. The battery was dead. Zeeke knocked the butt end of his screwdriver onto the device in anger. Before he could get the chance to hurl more profanities, he heard the awkward, wet stumping of uneven footsteps.

Bracing his screwdriver in a locked arm, he spun around and blindly went in with a jab. The man the footsteps belonged to was surprised but not completely taken unawares. He managed to block the attack and flip Zeeke onto his back. Before more attacks could be dealt, the man abruptly shouted with both palms open, “Easy, I’m on your side!” He pointed to the Resistance insignia stitched onto his muddy clothes and Zeeke let out a sigh.

“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting company,” Zeeke quipped with exhaustion. “I thought all the other officers were dead or on those bombers.”

“Unfortunately, I’m neither,” the Resistance officer helped Zeeke to his feet. “You’re quick. Good thing I’m quicker. Name’s Everen. Everen Tao. My datapad was scanning for any active Resistance signals. Picked up on two, but yours was the only one mobile. I tried to hail but—“

“Comms are down. Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m out here,” Zeeke kicked the comms booster before introducing himself with deflated enthusiasm: “Zeeke.”

Everen’s weight was slanted to one side, his hand braced on his ribs. He winced before speaking with a kind voice, “Can you get it up and running?”

Zeeke scratched his eyebrows to try and disperse the crinkle forming on his brow, “It needs a new power core. Don’t suppose you have one?”

“All out. Sorry,” Everen tried to smile.

_He was one of those._ Zeeke had met many people who tried to keep things light in trying times. It was usually his default too, but right now Everen’s breezy act was getting on his nerves. He laughed secretly at the irony. Now he knew how Koa felt up on that walkway before disaster struck.

“Koa’s arm…” he thought out loud. “It has a power core.”

“Who’s arm?”

Amidst all the loud thundering and flashing of light, Zeeke barely managed to see the warship heading in their direction. It was identical to the one he had seen when he was on the walkway, with a few minor differences. Everen noticed it too and staggered to take cover under one of the tents. Zeeke followed suit.

The ship hovered in the air a few hundred meters from the tents. The landing legs stayed closed and the ships lower compartment opened smoothly. A gust of air forced its way out. That was the only sound it made. No groans or whines or hisses. The warship purred with the low octaves of a new and shiny ship plucked straight off the assembly line.

Three troopers, clad in black, rappelled to the ground. One was large and bulky with a hefty looking pack attached to the back of his armour. Another was long and slender, brandishing two riot batons –a shimmering glow to his frame. The last trooper off the ship had a hand terminal fixed at the wrist with a thin antenna attached at the helmet.

Once on the ground, the large one said, “I don’t want to be out in this stinking rain for too long. Our orders are to canvas the area, sweep the tower and make sure there’s no Resistance scum hiding about. Slicer, how’s that drone coming?”

“Negative on the drone. Too much interference. Won’t be able to pick up any signals this close to the tower. We have to search by visual,” the slicer said. The large one signalled for the warship to leave.

As the troopers made their way in the direction of the tower, Zeeke turned to Everen and asked, “You armed?”

Everen patted his holster and his head sunk when he felt nothing but dried mud, “Must have lost it in the fall.”

“How are you with blunt objects then?” Zeeke reached into his satchel for another tool and pulled out a wrench.

A prominently arched brow highlighted Everen’s unfamiliarity with unarmed combat, “You aren’t actually thinking about taking them on…are you?”

“They’re looking for Resistance. We’re Resistance. Might as well use the element of surprise while we’ve got it. I also have a friend in that tower. I can’t let them get to her,” Zeeke spoke quick and quiet, not allowing Everen enough time to absorb everything. Right after, he pointed to the biggest trooper, “See brawns for brains over there?”

Everen shifted his weight and grabbed the wrench, “You mean the one that has more muscle than the two of us combined?”

“Yup,” Zeeke nodded. “That’s a bulwark. The large pack on his back is probably a portable deflector shield. One that size needs a large battery to stay charged. It’ll probably work for the comms booster.”

“That sounds easy _in theory_, but we’re not exactly evenly matched.”

“No, but the good thing about being this close to the tower during a storm is that we’re all blind. Tactically speaking. Sensors, comms, anything that remotely works on electric current or radio waves will be affected. That’s why without that booster our signals keep getting scrambled.”

“Still doesn’t help our odds.”

Zeeke glanced at the ground trying to conjure up any ideas. Everen was right about one thing. In a fair fight, those troopers would cut them down before either of them could land a punch. He’d seen it before. But he also knew their armour wasn’t impervious to conductive damage. The rain puddles pooling around their feet may have been an inconvenience earlier, but now they provided an advantage. Zeeke got his eureka moment. “You got a datapad?”

Everen reached into his pocket and handed his datapad over. Zeeke cracked open the protective casing and started rewiring the electrical panel so the live would bypass the fuse and feed directly into the power source.

Everen’s head kept swinging between watching out for the three advancing troopers and squinting at Zeeke’s busy hands, “You think now’s the time to be tinkering around?”

“If I do it right, I can turn this paperweight into a small ion bomb.”

“Are you crazy?” Everen whisper-shouted. “You want to set off a jury-rigged explosion this close to those fuel tanks? What about the comms booster?”

Zeeke’s words were muffled by the screwdriver held between his teeth as he stripped some wires, “The explosion will release a pulse wave. No incendiaries. If I can set it off in range of those troopers it’ll reverse the polarity of any electrical components nearby. That trooper with the weird glow that looks like a trick of the light, that’s scout armour. It’s glowing because the cloaking tech is reacting to the rain. The pulse will probably overload his armour and hopefully fry ‘em all if the ground is wet enough. The bulwark’s armour is twice as thick so I’m hoping it’ll be enough to shield the battery pack.”

“The entire ground is wet. Won’t we get fried too?”

“The radius should be relatively small. We’re just gonna have to get lucky I guess,” Zeeke pulled the screwdriver from his mouth and started reassembling the datapad. He could feel it getting hotter through the material of his knuckle gloves. At least he’d wired it correctly. He turned to see how close the troopers had gotten. They were searching the nearby tents.

“How do you know so much about their equipment?” Everen side-eyed him.

Zeeke got back to work, his fingers prickling with anxiety. “I’ve heard the stories.”

“We’ve all heard the stories,” Everen didn’t sound trusting of the answer he got. “They always end with no one surviving a death trooper incursion.”

Zeeke sighed, “Call it intuition.” His newly assembled makeshift-bomb was finished. Now for the hard part. “It’s ready. I just have to get close enough to plant it on their scout before it goes off in my hand.”

Everen frowned at him, “So that thing can go off at any time?”

Zeeke shrugged, “What? I didn’t have time to build a detonator.”

“Who are you…really?” Everen lowered his voice when the trooper’s voices grew louder.

“I’m just a mechanic,” he said with wit.

Everen snorted, bracing the wrench tightly, “Yeah...and I’m a freaking Jedi.”

Everything that happened next was a blur. A trooper shouted. Blaster fire hailed at him and Everen until the sound of whistling broke through the chaos. The whistling was coming from something near his feet. Zeeke glanced at the gas canisters and read the temperature warning. The troopers heard it too. A lightbulb went off in Zeeke’s brain. The gas was going to expand. Rapidly.

Zeeke took a chance and threw the makeshift ion bomb. The datapad exploded in the distance, electric current passing from the scout's armour into the wet ground and shocking the bulwark. The bulwark was instantly cut in half by the malfunctioning deflector shield. Zeeke shouted for Everen to run from the canisters.

Zeeke ran towards the two halves of the bulwark to retrieve the battery pack while Everen ran in the direction of the comms device. An icy explosion ruptured from the canisters turning the muddy water into brown frost and encasing the entire body of the scout trooper in ice. Everen was knocked back by the explosion, frost burns coating the entire left side of his body. Cold air blew Zeeke onto his ass. The lower body of the bulwark was frozen to the knees. By some luck, Zeeke was still in one piece. Two troopers were taken off the board and Zeeke didn’t have time to worry about the third. Perhaps the explosion took care of the last trooper.

Zeeke grabbed the bulwarks battery pack and blaster, dashed to the comms device, installed the battery pack and watched as the comms booster transformed into a sleek, tall radio antenna with a bleeping red light at the top.

Zeeke helped Everen off the ground. Everen’s skin was cold to the touch, but the cold burns could have been way more severe.

“Can you walk?” Zeeke asked.

Everen struggled, “I can try.”

Zeeke helped, “Let’s get you out of the rain.”

The tower was in worse shape than when he’d left it. By some divine providence, the internal columns in the control room managed to keep any fallen debris from caving inward. Koa was still passed out and safe, her chest moving slightly. Zeeke set Everen down by a wall.

He tried his comms several times to get a message through to Paige. The signal was weak but there, he just needed the right frequency.

“Watch out!” Everen’s eyes filled with distress as he tried to reach forward and warn Zeeke.

Zeeke turned in the direction of Everen’s line of sight and fired the blaster he’d nicked off the dead trooper on instinct. There was a glow of red illuminating the darkroom briefly before the splicer dropped to the ground with a cauterised neck and no head. Zeeke chuckled triumphantly, trying to come up with a suitable quip when his body started staggering backwards of its own accord.

“Zeeke?” Paige’s voice came through as clean as a whistle. Her voice sounded tired but also hopeful. Joyful.

Everen crawled to his side and looked at Zeeke’s midriff in horror. Zeeke didn’t want to, but he had to see. He had to know.

There was a hole where his stomach used to be and instead of letting the fear consume him, he turned to look at Koa’s still body. The knife he’d placed in her care was exactly where he’d left it. The darkness materialised a phantom that looked just like his brother next to her. The phantom even shared the same scowl and disapproving glare. Zeeke smiled and his lips felt wet. Then his cheek felt wet too. And finally, the wetness dripped onto his neck. His tongue tasted blood but his nose smelt grease and engine fuel and the scent of ozone that filled air recyclers. It smelled like his home, once upon a time.

In the dark, he saw a panorama of his childhood. He was a kid again, helping his brother work on a customer’s broken down ship. Two suns in the sky. The smell of hooch permeating off his father’s passed out body. A pile of gambled credits spilt on the floor. Ships of all sizes slicing through the night air as they climbed for the stars. Dreams of his mother. “One day all this gambling will kill you!” his brother shouted at their father. “You’re the smart one Zee. Your luck is how you get off this rock,” his father whispered with the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Somnambulist…do you copy?” Everen’s voice was panicked and far away. Far, far away. “We need medical assistance…”

Zeeke pushed the blaster to Everen’s side as things began to dim and coldness enveloped him like a solemn lover’s embrace. Koa. Everen. The knife. The blaster. The slivers of dull light. _Everything _turned to blackness. His lips tweaked at the corners, his mind reaching into the depth of his memories to remember what it had felt like to dangle from the edge of the walkway with nothing but Koa’s slender fingers keeping him from falling. The rush and waves of fear. The feeling of being alive.

“Guess…we’re…even,” He croaked out.

And then he thought of his brother one last time.

Calista

Fleeing a war-torn planet was one thing. Taking on a squad of well-trained troopers with advanced weaponry and armour was a whole other thing entirely. When the ion grenade went off, Calista had hoped to cause the troopers to stagger back, maybe force them to fall behind some cover. What she didn’t expect was for one of the troopers to lose a hand while the others formed defensive positions around a portable deflector shield.

The thought of her being responsible for another loss of limb, even one that belonged to an enemy, made her head spin. All the while, Calista had to steady her shooting arm and aim for a weak spot in the troopers armour. So far, there wasn’t one.

The trooper with the rifle shot in her direction several times. The rifle was powerful enough to pierce through thick metal like a hot knife through butter. If Calista got snagged by even one of those rounds that burned bright orange holes through her cover… she shuddered to think.

Suddenly, a blinding white flash exploded at the centre of the firing ground. Poe had thrown a flash grenade.

“Thank the gods,” Calista’s breathing was ragged as she scrambled to get to different cover. The blaster in her hand felt hot to the touch. Had she not been wearing gloves, it probably would have burned her skin.

Calista’s steps were quiet and soft as a mouse’s. The flash grenade had bought them some time, but whether that was a good thing was yet to be seen. She was beginning to regret her plan of attacking head-on. It’s not like she had many better alternatives. If one of them stayed behind to take on the troopers alone, things would have ended much quicker. At least this way she and Poe were still breathing.

A soft crunch emanated behind her. Calista spun round, blaster raised in anticipation, only there was no one there. Nothing but a shimmer that looked to be a trick of the light. Her instincts screamed for her to run, but she swallowed them down. She turned around to keep pushing forward. She had to regroup with Poe.

Out of nowhere, something hard and heavy crashed onto her wrists, forcing her to drop her blaster. Calista seethed in pain, refusing to make a peep. Her eyes skittered around the cramped space under a section of a wrecked ship’s framework, there was nothing but rust and sand and humid air surrounding her. Then a second strike landed on her jaw. It was powerful enough to throw her onto the ground. Bright spots crossed her vision and everything was temporarily blurred for an instant.

The shimmer from before crossed her peripheral and transformed into a corporeal form. It was one of the troopers. Their build was lean and tall, a crowd control baton held in each hand and a corona of artificial light surrounding the matte black of their armour. Her instincts had been right to tell her to run. It’s a pity she didn’t listen because now her jaw was throbbing and she was disarmed.

“Positive confirmation of target,” the previously cloaked trooper spoke into his earpiece. “Should I execute?”

Calista grabbed a handful of dirt, waiting to hear her sentencing.

“Negative,” another voice travelled out from the trooper’s comms. “The Duchess wants her alive. Prepare for exfil.”

“Copy,” the trooper replied before looming in closer to say threateningly. “Looks like today’s your lucky day.” He strapped his batons back in their holsters before reaching down to grab her arm.

Calista threw a handful of dirt at the trooper’s face but his helmet protected his vision. He laughed as she tried to break free from his hold by using whatever training her time in the Academy had stuck. She kicked at his guarded shins and elbowed his helmet to the detriment of her non-guarded cartilage. Nothing worked. He was too well armoured. Too strong. In a last-ditch effort, Calista reached into her thigh strap and retrieved a flash grenade, shutting her eyes as her thumb left the trigger. The flash was bright even behind closed eyelids. When she opened her eyes again, the trooper careened backwards in pain as he tried to grab at his eyes through the helmet.

Calista reached down for her blaster and fired off several shots at close range. One penetrated his armour through the space between the shoulder guard and breastplate. She fired again. And again. And again, until the trooper stopped moving, smoke rising from the holes left by her blaster. Her knees went weak and she crumbled to the floor. Her heart was in her throat, her nerves going haywire as she tried to find the motivation to get back up.

Unexpectedly, the trooper slowly picked himself off the floor, his body rocking like a man on too much hooch. The holes drilled into his armour were slowly beginning to seal with a strange gel-like substance that was dispensed through the weaving beneath his suit.

“You’re going to regret doing that,” he growled before arming himself with his batons again. This time they hummed with the threat of an oncoming shock. Calista shut her eyes and ground her teeth down in preparation for the high voltage shock. It never arrived. Calista opened her eyes. The trooper fell face-first into the dirt, a knife sticking out through the weak spots in his armour. Poe stood in the spot where the trooper had been a second earlier, hand stretching out.

“Told you fighting was a bad idea,” he wise-cracked with a boyish smirk on his face.

Calista let out a strangled noise that was a mix of relief and exasperation, “Not my finest moment, I’ll give you that.”

He helped her up and his eyes lingered on the part of her jaw that refused to stop throbbing. “You alright?”

Calista rubbed at her jaw in the hopes it would force the bruising to clear up, “Nothing that won’t heal.”

“How many grenades you got left?”

“None. You?”

“Just the one.”

Calista tried to catch her breath, “We just have to hold out until ou--”

Time slowed. Red streaked through the empty space, silent and faster than a flash of lightning. Suddenly, Poe was on the ground, a burning hole below his right shoulder. Had the blast not been pure plasma there would have been blood soaking his white shirt. Calista dropped to his side. Her fears were coming to life and they tasted sour. She placed her palm over his fresh wound and Poe sucked in air painfully as his fingers came to rest over hers.

An angry, hoarse shout echoed through the dead trooper’s comms, “Hold your fire! We need the target alive!”

A female voice replied brazenly, “It was a clean shot, sir. Not the target.”

“How did they know where we were? We’re behind cover?” Calista’s mind raced with questions and her inner voice was bombarding her with even more.

Poe’s face scrunched as he tried to keep the pain at bay, “The sniper. Her scopes see thermal.”

“It’s a good thing you aren’t bleeding,” she tried to examine the wound. Poe shivered every time he moved. Calista checked her pockets for any painkillers to keep him from going into shock. She hadn’t prepared for everything it seemed, her pockets were bone dry. Poe’s eyelids were fluttering, trying hard to stay open. Calista dug through his pockets next. He had nothing on him but his binoculars, his blaster and the ion grenade she had given him.

“You need to make a run for it,” Poe barely managed to get the words out. Calista’s ribcage felt like it was shaking with the force of an earthquake. Things went south very quickly.

“Not a chance, flyboy,” Calista shook her head and turned to the dead trooper a few centimetres away. He had to have some medical supplies on him. She dug through each pocket and possible nook and cranny with the frenzy of a spice junkie looking for her next fix. Luck was on their side, she found a small box of bio-gel plasters and two field stims. She applied the bio-plasters to either side of his wound and then popped the cap off one of the field stim injectors.

Poe grabbed her wrist before she could inject him with the stims, “That high a dose and you’ll knock me out.”

Calista looked at him apologetically, “I know.”

“Wha—?”

She had enough strength to overpower Poe and jab the stim into his neck, pumping his body full of powerful painkillers strong enough to bring down an animal twice their size.

Poe shook his head roughly, possibly in an attempt to stay lucid. “Why?”

Calista threw the empty stim case like it was made of something evil, “It’ll slow your heart rate, decrease your thermal signature. It’s the only way they’ll believe me. They need me alive. I’ll be fine.”

Poe’s hand tried to grab her wrist but his fingers moved sluggishly, “Don’t…”

Calista closed the distance between them and squeezed his hand, “You’ll find me.”

Poe tried to move his lips but the stim worked too well. Calista felt guilt battle out with fear inside her. She kissed his forehead, pocketed his grenade and picked up her blaster. Then she activated Poe’s distress signal and took one last look at his face. He didn’t look angry or betrayed, he wasn’t sober enough to form any telling expressions. He looked like a man trying hard not to fall asleep. She wanted to retch for what she’d just done, but at least this way he’d be safe. She hoped.

Calista made her way towards the troopers, arms raised and face covered in sweat –or maybe they were tears. Her emotions were all over the place. “Don’t shoot. I’m coming out,” she shouted.

“Stand down,” the leader said.

“How do we know this isn’t another trap?” the sniper asked cautiously, looking through her scope to scan the area.

Calista replied, “It’s not. I’m alone.”

The sniper asked, “What about your Resistance buddy?”

“You killed him,” Calista felt sick saying those words. The sniper didn’t believe her from the sound of her scoff. “Use your scopes, see for yourself.”

Reluctantly, the sniper looked through her scopes and her body language changed. She huffed and nodded curtly to her leader. That was all the confirmation he needed. He didn’t care to see it for himself. At least that gambit paid off.

The leader of the troopers tapped the bulwarks shoulder and in record time the deflector shield was shut down and packed up. The bulwark walked over to his companion missing an arm and carried the entirety of his weight on one shoulder. The sniper called in their transport. Calista’s hands were restrained and she was disarmed.

The warship descended from the sky in short order. It’s ramp unfolding from the cargo bay. She was lead to the ship without the use of force or the threat of a blaster barrel. They knew she wasn’t a threat against five of them. She didn’t even entertain the thought of trying to run. Getting out of this problem would require less knuckle bashing and more strategy.

As she climbed the ramp leading into the First Order’s ship, the feeling of dread snaked around her gut. The feeling wasn’t for herself or Poe. It was abrasive, as though someone had unleashed a wave of furious anger that should have stayed locked away. Mokk-Toh’s face appeared in her mind for the span of a breath. One of the troopers leading her to the ships sleeping quarters shivered as though a ghost had passed through him.

_Mokk-Toh…_Calista worried silently. 

Mokk-Toh

Versengen fought against him as he had countless times before, ferociously and holding nothing back. Mokk-Toh distanced himself from Versengen’s primal sword slashes and the reach of every forceful kick and punch.

Like their first encounter, Mokk-Toh’s mouth could practically taste Versengen’s rage. It oozed like ripe pustules, radiating with the uncomfortable heat of a man stricken by fever. With every attack, his rage leaked out from under his armour like invisible ichor. Contagious and poisonous.

Mokk-Toh could feel sickly pulses travel from Versengen’s body, then jump into his sword and be unleashed upon his own. 

Versengen sneered and growled like a rabid animal every time Mokk-Toh slinked away from his deadly attacks. “Stop running and fight me!” he bellowed out, distorted and mangled. His mechanical breathing was unpleasant to hear, especially the harder his lungs battled for air.

Mokk-Toh’s blade sung the same note as it clashed with Versengen’s. Their feet sliding backwards from the impact and the lack of grip in the red mud. So much of their current encounter was like their first.

The tendons attached to each of Mokk-Toh’s fighting muscles writhed from the pull of that delirious schism that always tried to tear his two halves apart. The warrior and the peacekeeper had always co-existed in harmony until they were offset by Versengen’s hunt and Lenora’s death. The warrior wanted vengeance. The peacekeeper sought to protect what little he had left. He had been in constant torment for the last few weeks and it wasn’t from physical injury. His truest fear was that one half would win over the other.

“I can sense your fear,” Versengen laughed with glee. “You’re afraid that deep down, you and I are the same.”

“You and I are nothing alike.”

“Then prove it. Let it out. Set the anger free. Prove that you’re better than me. Prove that you can control it!” Versengen taunted.

Mokk-Toh sneered and thrust his sword at an angle that made the air whistle, “I don’t need rage to defeat you.”

Versengen side-stepped to evade Mokk-Toh’s swing. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he countered.

Out from his blind spot, Versengen emerged like a shadow and planted a dagger in his Mokk-Toh’s back. His hand released its grip on his sword as he fell. The ache in his back was raw. He tried to reach for the dagger but his arms weren’t long enough.

“Here…” Versengen stalked towards him and pulled the dagger out in one fluid, ruthless motion. “Let me help you with that.”

Mokk-Toh yelled. A rivulet of blood snaking its way down the ridges of his bony back. After some struggle, his hands planted themselves in the muddy ground and trembled as he picked his weight off the soft soil, planting his knees deep into the mud.

“Is this it?” Versengen spat in disgust as he tossed the dagger to the side. “This is what all those soldiers died for? This is what you sacrificed them for? Sacrificed _me_ for?” Versengen kneeled on one knee beside him and removed his helmet so his one brown eye and one milk-white eye could stare into Mokk-Toh’s face. “And for what? Look where it got you. A fallen monarchy. A dead queen… A broken soldier with nothing to his legacy but betrayal, lies and weakness.”

Mokk-Toh held his coughs at bay as he stared into his enemy’s eyes. They were dark like his, filled with suffering and pain. Between the quiet spaces that existed after each strained breath, Mokk-Toh allowed himself to truly see Versengen’s face. To take in the harshness of the scorch marks marring half of his face and the unsettling sight of his burned-out retina. This was the face that haunted Mokk-Toh’s nightmares.

“And what has vengeance gotten you?” he questioned, pity surrounding his words.

Versengen stalled, unable to think of anything. Then a grin spread across the one half of his face that wasn’t scarred by fire. “A reason to survive.”

The bounty hunter stood and returned his helmet to his face. The armour snapping loudly as his helmet locked in place. With a disappointed inhale, he lifted his sword for the final killing blow. “What a disappointment. May _Qin'sha_ guide you were she failed me.”

Qin’sha. Their people’s god who led lost souls back to the stream, the source of all living things. As fitting a god as he deserved. Mokk-Toh closed his eyes and conjured the one thing that brought him tranquillity.

_“Come back to me,” Lenora whispered in his ear._

_“Don't I always?”_

With a painful, head-jerking spike in volume, Mokk-Toh’s comms came online, ripping him from his peaceful moment. Versengen’s sword caught the light as the clouds began to scatter. Poe’s voice was faint and breathy. His words coming out in short pauses, “Does anyone copy? They took her. They took Calista.”

As Versengen’s sword began slicing downwards, Mokk-Toh let go. The wall he’d built in his mind that kept all the anger at bay crumpled. Metaphysical bricks turned to sand and the sand dissipated into nothingness. Time stretched and expanded, making him aware of the stillness and tranquillity that lay dormant in that moment. With open palms, he embraced what came next.

A surge of power, stronger than he’d felt in years, tore through his Ko, traversing each dormant or dying cell with a fiery pulse until he wanted to claw his own skin off. All voices and sounds he’d been previously aware off died off in the buzzing of white-noise that rang in his ears. His cuts and bruises thrummed with a strange euphoria that made him feel lighter than air. The crook in his ankles that never ceased to make him aware of his imbalance and discomfort ebbed away and became numbness. The round scar that used to be a blaster hole no longer tingled. Most important of all, he felt free –unburdened.

With Versengen’s sword mere inches from the crown of his head, Mokk-Toh moved swiftly to catch the sharp end within two palms. Versengen gasped in surprise, but something inside Mokk-Toh told him he was wearing that bone-chilling grin of his underneath that helmet.

The shift in their battle now gave Mokk-Toh the upper-hand. He disarmed Versengen after his knuckles had worked the metal of the bounty hunter’s armour until the chest plate indented. Ferociously and unforgiving, Mokk-Toh nearly broke Versengen apart.

Finally, there was no more dissonance between his harmony and Versengen’s discord. Now they shared the same wavelength and that wavelength was fraught. It was as though their frightening auras that once opposed one another now multiplied and collided with the energy of two collapsing stars.

Mokk-Toh couldn’t feel pain anymore. His knuckles were bloody and his palms had identical cuts from where the sword had landed and yet he felt nothing. He was being hollowed out by himself. Mokk-Toh felt as though he was the forceful centre of a whirlpool, dragging Versengen’s body down to the depths of the sea. And Versengen, though overpowered, didn’t sink easily.

Blood splatters, cracked bones, guttural breaths and controlled screams were trapped beneath the dome generated by the deflector shield. Pieces of Versengen’s armour started to break away, stripping him of his protection, making him vulnerable to each and every one of Mokk-Toh’s attacks.

Mokk-Toh, wielding Versengen’s sword, struck such a hard blow that half of Versengen’s helmet cracked from the force of the swing alone. The glassy visor was obscured by a spider-web indentation. Versengen was flung through the air with a single kick contained around his chest.

Mokk-Toh’s limbs were trembling but he wasn’t afraid. His rage burned hot, hotter than the flames that had threatened to kill him in those steam tunnels. He lifted the sword above Versengen’s chest, listening to how much worse his breathing had become. Mokk-Toh felt no remorse for what he’d done.

_“Mokk-Toh…” _Calista’s worried voice called to him from across the universe. Somehow, in some inexplicable way, that was all he needed for his proverbial wall to reform and trap his beastly energy again. Only, the wall hadn't set right. A crack spread through-out his mental barrier, and it kept spreading like glass cracking to high pitched notes.

He shook his head as though he’d finally regained control of his body from an unknown phantom.

“What are you waiting for?” Versengen shouted. “Do it! Kill me! Finish what you started!”

Mokk-Toh looked at the blackness of his eyes reflected in Versengen’s sword. “No.”

“Coward!”

“I won’t give you the satisfaction.”

“If you don’t kill me I’ll just keep coming after you.”

“I know,” Mokk-Toh leaned down and ripped the grenade belt from Versengen’s body, activating one incendiary grenade. A beeping countdown started as Mokk-Toh fished his sword from where he last dropped it. “If you survive this planet, you know how to find me.”

Versengen screamed in venomous anger. Mokk-Toh walked away from the husk of the man he used to know and threw the belt of beeping grenades into Versengen’s ship.

Versengen

It had taken Versengen what felt like hours before his body had regained enough strength to crawl to his ship. The contusions forming beneath what remained of his armour were tender and large. Some of the cuts inflicted upon his body went so deep they threatened to snap bone and spill marrow. Versengen felt like he’d just gone toe to toe with a mudhorn and lived to tell about it. Except, there was no one around to tell. His insides were being numbed and held together by what few stims and bio-plasters he had left. Copious amounts of painkillers saturating his nervous system until he couldn’t tell up from down.

Versengen sat on the ramp of his ship, listening to the wires spark and his unlucky droids fail to raise their mechanical limbs in the aftermath of the explosion. Mokk-Toh had damaged his ship beyond his skills of repair.

The only thing holding together was his battered and splintered armour. The amalgamated monstrosity sagged unevenly on his frame, pushing down on his shoulders and spine. With every breath, a popping noise travelled from his sternum to his ear as his diaphragm contracted, his assisted breathing more nasal than normal. That noise should have alarmed him, but instead, what hurt most, was that his sword was stolen from him. Taken would be more accurate. The sword was the last reminder of his old identity. The final remnant of the man he had been before the bounty hunter was gone.

He was stranded and alone, a painful reminder of the last time Mokk-Toh had left him to die on a harsh planet. Well and truly, he had finally completed his transformation into becoming nothing more than Versengen. The bounty hunter was all that was left.

There was not much else for Versengen to do but wait, knowing full well that word of his defeat had reached the Duchess’s ears by now. One thing was certain, Maligma didn’t make threats lightly. She would carry through with the threat of painful death she had promised him.

So he waited, patiently, for his execution squad to arrive. There was no use trying to escape. After all, he needed a new ship if he was going to take Mokk-Toh up on his offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Character Commentary:**  
**Zeeke:** Zeeke became a fast favourite of mine when his character came to life in chapter 5. He never actually existed in my original version of TRQ. Ironically, his brother, Gareth did (but he was going to be a cameo-character to be further explored in a spin-off story I have in my WIP tank). I wrestled with killing him off because I had grown very attached, but ultimately, even though his mysterious past was something I really wanted to delve into, it just seemed like a decision I had to see through. And I didn't want any o the stakes I'd promised myself to follow through on to fall flat. Also, Zeeke was more of a thought-bunny of how the force could heavily affect the odds of a character that wasn't force-sensitive, i.e, having him know how things work or his being 'lucky'. I'd love to know what you guys thought of Zeeke, good or bad.


	16. Asunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, but I'll probably be taking a hiatus from this series until after I've seen ROS. There is still one chapter that I've half-finished and will post that before going on hiatus. Also, no moodboards or artwork to accompany this chapter because I couldn't be arsed to make one.  
**Don't be afraid to leave some feedback or comments. ♥**

Koa

_“Is she alright?”_

_“Her vitals are off the charts.”_

_“We should probably put her under again.”_

_No! _ _Koa’s mind screamed. I’m not going under again!_

_“No use. She’s waking up. Now.”_

_“Who’s going to tell her?”_

_“Baby steps.”_

In a haze of confusion and hysteria, Koa began pulling at all the medical tubes and equipment attached to her body. Her eyesight was slowly returning yet the room was nothing but bright flecks of light and smears of colour. Her right eye had a harder time focusing than her left. Something told her not to get too hopeful about ever seeing through it clearly again. The purple marks on her neck and upper spine itched. Watts and Paige tried to restrain her down, but somehow she broke free and dropped onto the clean floor like a lead balloon.

A windy grunt left her throat as she tried to use her left arm to grab onto the medical bed. Annoyance struck the back of her head when she realised all she was doing was swinging her stump around. A moment earlier she could have sworn she felt her left hand wiggle at the fingers.

“_Rashka!” _She swore in her native tongue. Proceeding to mumble confused sentences strung together by whatever coherence her brain managed to conjure up.

Paige bent down to help her up and ended up accidentally catching Koa’s elbow to the nose. The stranger she heard earlier–Tao he said his name was–reached his arms out so Paige wouldn’t crash on top of him as she stumbled back with a bloody nose. The length of one of his arms and most of his left ear and hairline were brazed by frost burns. Watts was the next to suffer from Koa’s forceful awakening. The droid was knocked over from the stool he’d been clamped onto with a heavy thud.

“For the love of—!” Paige pinched her nose to keep the blood from dripping. “Koa it’s me! It’s Paige! You’re safe. Safe on the Somnambulist.”

Ton-Ton leveraged Watts until the droid’s frame sat upright. “She is showing clear symptoms of mental discountenance,” he pointed out as he stared up at the ceiling from his lying position.

“What?” Paige asked, plugging her nose with paper towels.

“She’s disoriented,” Tao left Paige’s side and stood from his medical bed. He hobbled closer to Koa, timing his next move precisely before he managed to wrangle her hand behind her back and hold her still. Ton-Ton jabbed her leg with a something thin and sharp, a calmness spreading from her leg upward. She screamed and kicked until the lights grew less bright and the swirls of colours turned into physical things she could identify. Slowly, but surely, she was getting a handle on her overstimulated, hyperactive brain.

Her breathing slowed and her heart stopped racing. Her head was barely supported by her neck, her long hair dangling down to her back, knotted and frizzy.

With a dry rasp, she asked frantically, “How did I get here? Where’s Calista? And Zeeke? And Mokk-Toh?”

“Mokk-Toh is with Poe and Odhen in the communications room,” Paige offered some clarity.

Koa bit down to stop the muscle in her jaw from twitching, but then her tongue felt the coolness of the titanium snake fused to her tooth and she let her lips tremble. “What happened on Telos?”

“You should sit,” Tao tried to set her down on the bed.

Koa pushed him away, “Tell me!”

Paige braced her shoulders, eyes cast downward. Ton-Ton sat beside Watts, his hood covering his face as he mirrored Paige’s reaction. The only person looking her straight in the eye was Tao, the stranger.

“Alright,” Tao said with one hand holding his ribs. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but first—” he reached for a small knife resting atop a folded pair of overalls. Koa felt a dry lump in her throat. “This belongs to you,” he held the unfamiliar knife out to her.

Zeeke’s once full, pink lips were darkened to a bluish shade and his face looked pale, greyish. His glazed-over eyes were half-open. Half closed. Fully void.

Being so close to his frozen-stiff face, she marvelled at the clarity of his irises. They resembled cracked sapphire gems with yellowing moss growing inside the cracks. They were beautiful. Too beautiful to never see the world through again.

On her homeworld, there was a rare bird that lived close to the sea known as the Ivari. Its wings were wide and its body small, a graceful delicateness to it. It was known for collecting shiny rocks and coloured glass. It would use its beak to break the stones or glass apart and scatter the shards around its nest, weaving the beautiful colours into the infrastructure of its home. It brought Koa some comfort when she pictured Zeeke’s essence being reborn as an Ivari. To her dismay, what little comfort she had found in that simple thought wasn’t enough to keep the tears at bay.

As she cried, Zeeke’s eyes remained fixed on the light fixtures above, still half-open. Half closed. Koa knew the least she could do for him was close his eyes completely, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch him. Touching him meant feeling that unnatural coldness that spread throughout a person’s body when they died. And feeling that coldness meant she’d have to accept his current state as unchangeable.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” She looked down at the knife, wondering why he’d given it to her. “_I _should have been the one protecting _you_.”

Koa sniffled and moved her hands over Zeeke’s half-open eyes. “May Qin’sha guide you, friend.” She closed his eyes with trembling fingers.

Footsteps descended to the lower decks. It was Tao. He made his entrance as quietly and respectfully as he could. He was a man who valued decorum it would appear.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” he said humbly. “You’re needed in the comms room. Poe has a plan.”

Koa made her way to the comms room and passed Ton-Ton and Watts on the way. They were still in the same spot she’d left them, looking like they’d been drained of all spirit. There was a pang in her chest when she watched the small Jawa stand and drag the red trolley towards the droid with all the vigour of an indentured servant. Her hand which rested above the knife peeking out between her belt and trousers instinctively closed around the handle.

Poe

Poe had agonised over every possible scenario and contingency in which he could have prevented Calista from handing herself over to the troopers. His palm worked circles around the tender flesh where she had jabbed him with the stim. He should have been angry, at least that would be leagues better than what he was currently feeling. He didn’t have the foggiest idea what it was he was feeling, all he knew was that it was making it hard for him to sit still. Even the soreness from the blaster bolt didn’t do much to distract him.

The crew had been debating amongst themselves about what action to take in regards to Calista ever since Koa came to. He had been too busy overthinking to participate beyond a few short, blunt sentences.

Paige leaned her frame against one of the wall panels, a purple bruise dusting around the bridge of her nose, “How can we be sure this isn’t a trap?”

Odhen pointed towards Paige, “She has a point.”

“We can’t,” Poe said matter-of-factly, ceasing his attack on his tender spot when he felt pins and needles.

Paige scoffed in such a way that was usually to be followed by a savvy eye-roll. Poe was surprised that she didn’t do as her nature prescribed. “Okay, say it’s not a trap. Say there’s no one waiting for us to show up half-cocked. What if Calista isn’t there? What if she’s already…?”

“No.” Mokk-Toh shook his head, his breathing shallow. Each blink he took was slower than the last.

“How can you be so sure?” Odhen took a step forward as if he was a challenger in an arena. Mokk-Toh’s long frame shifted when he moved all his weight onto his other foot. He had said all he would say.

Poe ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to put his fist through a wall, “Mokk-Toh’s instincts have never been wrong before. And I trust him.”

“Trust isn’t the issue,” Paige looked angry, however, she managed to keep her voice civil. “We can’t make rash decisions. Not now. Not after… We’ve lost enough for one day.”

Everybody winced like a cluster of dendrites reacting to a stimulus sequentially. Koa and Everen emerged from the hallway. The room greeted her apathetically. No one had the will to fake a smile.

Poe noticed Koa wore a poncho to cover up her injury, the blotchiness of the skin around her eyes gave away the fact she had been crying. Without missing a beat, the first thing she did was look over at Paige and say, “Sorry.”

Paige held up a hand in acceptance of the apology.

“What did I miss?” Koa spoke with a deep voice that threatened to dethrone Odhen’s. She probably hadn’t had a sip of water since Telos.

Odhen scratched his beard before pointing at a flashing light on one of the terminals in the centre of the room, “While we were scanning the area, the Somnambulist received a distress beacon. From the Sentinel Two.”

Koa didn’t seem to process the significance of the ships transponder name. Poe jumped in to help fill the blanks, “The Sentinel Two is the ship that took Calista.”

“The beacon only carried co-ordinates, it’s stranded near the outer borders of the Expansive Region. We burned a lot of fuel taking on those warships. The Somnambulist only has enough in her to make two short jumps… maybe three. It’s doubtful we’d have enough fuel to get to that ship and make it back to D’Qar. Other than that hiccup, following that transponder could be a trap or it could be something else entirely. We have no way of knowing. We decided to put it to a vote,” Paige explained further, exhaustion making it hard for her to get into the specifics of everything that happened swiftly.

“This has to be a crew decision,” Poe said, ignoring the sharp stabbing pain in his lungs. It was most likely a side-effect from having all those drugs overwhelm his body. He hoped.

“I say we follow the beacon,” Koa said without giving the situation any further thought and then turned to glare at Odhen. “Besides, aren’t you still under contract?”

“That makes three,” Odhen grumbled with a twitch to his nostrils, ignoring Koa’s hostile tone. “What about you?” he looked at Everen with an intimidating stare.

Everen tried to remove himself from the vote, “I don’t think it’s my place—“

Odhen cut him off rudely, having no time for niceties, “You’re on the ship, you get a vote. It’s that simple.”

Everen’s mouth hung open or a few seconds before he spoke again, “Going back to base to refuel and gather ourselves is the best strategy, logically. And this ship looks like it has seen better days. Plus, we’re all being held together by bandages and pain meds. Doesn’t make for much of a crew.”

Odhen let out a deep exhale of relief, “Finally, someone else who sees reason.”

“That being said,” Everen held up a finger, “We’re working against a ticking clock. If the distress beacon _isn’t _a trap, chances are we’d have to beat the First Order’s reinforcements to it once they notice one of their ships has gone dark. And I’m not aware of any First Order presence anywhere near the Expansive Region, which means the ship could have been pulled out of hyperspeed. We have a head start, I say we use it before the window closes.”

“That makes four then,” Poe tallied with a bit more positivity about him. Odhen made a clicking sound with his tongue and Paige held her eyes shut for the span of a breath. Mokk-Toh looked as though he was on the precipice of toppling over.

Koa eyed Mokk-Toh, “You don’t look well.”

“I will be,” Mokk-Toh looked at the back of his hand, rotated it, made a fist, and opened it again. The entire time he looked like a man seeing his hand for the first time. “My battle with Versengen must have taken more out of me than I anticipated.”

“Is he still alive?” Koa’s hand alternated from holding onto a small knife fastened at her hip to squeezing her stump.

Mokk-Toh looked onward and out as though he was reaching for something with his mind that was no longer there, “I… do not know. I can’t sense much of anything right now.”

A wheel squeaked as the soft steps of Ton-Ton pulling Watts in the trolley behind him travelled through the small space. He dropped the handle with no care for being gentle and returned to a seated position with his head cast down, his one bright eye hidden from everyone. Watts patted his back affectionately.

“Not to piss in your milk, but we’re gettin’ off track,” Odhen interrupted before turning to Ton-Ton and Watts and asking them about where they stood on the vote.

Watts calculated the various odds of how plausible each scenario was. It was a lot of long worded gibberish attached to percentages. The meatier side of Odhen’s hand slammed into the wall making Paige jump. Everen snapped to attention as if his drill sergeant had suddenly materialised. Mokk-Toh peered through hooded eyes, a darkness that was never there before making him look even more frightening than normal.

Odhen didn’t care about the mixed reactions he got, he was already in a bad mood, now he was pushing for worse. “I don’ give two shakes about the math, tin-can. Just say your piece before I deactivate you and say it for you!”

“Rude,” Watts raised his head at the burly pilot. “I vote we go. The probability of success will only decrease the longer we wait.”

Odhen’s face was growing red, he pulled at his beard until hair follicles fell out. “I’m guessin’ you agree with the rest of them?” he asked Ton-Ton, his voice growing louder and louder. The Jawa dismissively waived the query away. 

“This is a mistake!” Odhen braced his hands on his hips, shuffling from one foot to the other. He turned to Poe with the expression of a man with an axe to grind. “_We_ barely survived Telos. Zeeke didn’t. And you want to charge headfirst into danger all over again?”

“This has nothing to do with what I want!” Poe bit back, the vein on his temple pulsating. Finally, somewhere to vent what he was trying to keep under wraps; his frustration.

“That’s bull and you know it!” Odhen spoke as though he knew something the rest of the crew did not.

Tears rimmed the edges of Paige’s eyes after a long moment of silence. Ton-Ton picked himself off the floor and left. Everen followed after the Jawa with a look of concern. Mokk-Toh held onto the wall to keep upright after it looked as though something had struck him from the inside. After a second of contemplation, he left as well. His gait resembled that of a drunken pirate unable to see straight.

Poe took a large step forward, fists balled tightly, “The vote has been cast.”

“I’m the captain of this here ship. If I so choose, I can space you right here, right now!” Odhen mimicked Poe’s movement.

“You forget, you’re not the only one that can fly a ship,” Poe’s jaw clenched, the threat sounding more menacing than he intended. “We have our mission.”

“The _mission_ went to shit the moment we landed on that planet!” Odhen’s finger kept pointing vigorously at random things around the room as though they were visual aids to help cement his argument.

“She _is_ the mission. Always has been!” Poe said with enough confidence to cause Odhen to flinch. “Now, Captain Boro, set a course for that damn beacon.”

Odhen’s face twitched in an unfriendly way as he made his way to the cockpit, “This better not turn out to be a fool’s errand.”

Poe remembered something Leia had said to him at the start of everything, “We have to be willing to take risks. Even if those risks seem to be fools' errands.”

Poe watched the stars dance across the glass of the observation deck in silence. The last time he’d been in here had been with Calista. He could vividly remember her curled up by the window sill, stargazing silently. The room seemed like a dormant volcano without her in it –eerily empty and ominous. Calista was becoming a complication, she was making it hard for him to stay detached, be impartial. Before today, he’d never lost his composure as he’d done with Odhen. Then again he’d never felt this frustrated before.

Between Zeeke’s death and losing Calista, everything hit him hard and in quick succession. When the Rose One had been reduced to specks and a memory, Poe hadn’t felt much of anything except regret and anger. But now guilt was growing like thorns around his gut, and fear had built a cage around his heart, trapping him in an intangible prison.

By the stars, he yearned for a hot shower to wash away his distress.

In his peripheral, Koa rapped her knuckles against the door panel even though the door was already open.

“Got a minute?” she asked.

Poe hummed a yes.

Koa walked in with less confidence than was habitual for her. For the first time, the hardened exterior of her personality seemed to melt away, revealing a stranger he’d never seen before –one who was accepting of her vulnerability. She took her steps sheepishly, trying to find the right words to say.

“From the moment we met, I haven’t put the best foot forward— No, that’s not…” Koa bit her tongue as she tried to rethink her next words. “What I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry, for being so closed-minded about you. You did what I couldn’t. You helped her forget about all the terrible things that forced her from her home. And I think, in some small way, I resented you for that. So… thank you. Thank you for fighting for her in there. You didn’t have to, but you did anyway.”

She extended her hand as a peace offering. Poe tried to smile but it would have been easier to lift boulders at this point. He shook Koa’s hand warmly.

“We leave no one behind,” he said as if he were being recorded for Resistance propaganda vids. “It’s my job to make sure everyone gets back in one piece.”

“It’s more than that. I think I’m finally starting to see why the princess admires you,” Koa said softly as she retracted her hand from his grip. A flash of sadness skittered across her features. “And why Zeeke looked up to you.”

Poe opened his mouth but was lost for words. Koa left the room and disappeared down a corner. Her admission was a lot to take in. To quell his racing mind he walked over to the spot he’d sat across from Calista and leaned his head against the window that wept tears from the air recyclers. He watched a shiny bead of water streak down at a snail’s pace, his finger hovering over it as he pondered whether he’d let the droplet continue on its journey or if he’d stop it.

“You want to be alone?” Paige’s voice carried across from the other end of the room.

“Not at all,” he said truthfully, afraid of his own restless thoughts. As Paige made herself comfortable in the spot across from him, he decided to let the droplet of water continue down its path.

In no time, Odhen had pulled them out of hyperspeed and called everyone to gather in the cockpit before making any moves. Amidst idle satellites and the clutter of an asteroid belt, there was a ship floating lifelessly through space, adrift and off-course. The Sentinel Two looked like one of the hundreds of abandoned and scuttled ships Poe had seen littered throughout the galaxy. The only noticeable difference was that none of those ships bore the First Order’s insignia on the side.

“That doesn’t look good,” Paige said softly. Koa kept her thoughts to herself, but by the look on her face, she may as well have been shouting from a rooftop. Mokk-Toh was nowhere to be seen, and Everen tried to look helpful by going over the scanners.

Ton-Ton read over several streams of data from the scanners and prattled in slow Jawaese. Odhen cleared his throat and translated for everyone: “Shorty says the lower levels of the ship’s been vented. Outer doors are open. The only escape pod has been ejected too. Some of the cabins still have pressure.”

“Only escape pod?” Koa repeated.

Odhen shrugged, “Guess quality of life isn’t on the First Order’s main agenda.”

Something about all this wasn’t sitting right with Poe. “Sabotage?” he asked the room.

Everen didn’t buy the likelihood of such an event happening, “There are easier ways of going about sabotaging a ship.”

“There’s only one way to find out for sure,” Koa stopped leaning against the back of Ton-Ton’s seat and made her way to the ships weapons locker in the cargo hold.

Everen’s gaze followed after Koa until she disappeared. His brows raised high, “So… that’s the whole plan then? Just charge in?” 

Paige and Odhen made similar gestures that translated to ‘sounds about right’.

“Works for me,” Poe replied before tapping on the Jawa’s shoulder. “Ton-Ton, keep watch on those scanners. I want to be the first to know if you see any ships coming towards us.”

“I’ll get us close enough for the gangway to reach the exterior doors so we can ventilate,” Odhen told the rest of the crew before speaking to Ton-Ton directly. “See if you can slice into the ship's systems so we can seal the cargo doors and re-pressurise before they get themselves killed by walking into a vacuum.”

Paige pressed her lips together until they lost colour as she thought hard on something, then she turned and said as enthusiastically as she could manage, “I’ll hook up our fuel lines so we can siphon whatever fuel’s remaining in that ship. May be enough to get us back to D’Qar.”

The Sentinel Two was deserted save for the odd dead trooper lying on the ground. Poe had counted four so far, not including the pilot. There were blaster scorch marks and blast impact patterns usually left by incendiary grenades darkening the inner walls. Someone had put up a tough fight against the troopers, and won by the looks of things.

Poe’s grip around his blaster was practically fused onto the trigger, he attempted to steel his nerves and keep a cool head. Calista had to be aboard this ship. He wouldn’t know where to start looking if she wasn’t.

“It’s too quiet. I don’t like it,” Koa said lowly as she stepped like a cautious cat. Her expression was impassive, but the dark tone in her voice let Poe know she was concerned, if not a little weary. “I’ll check below deck.”

Poe nodded as he made his way to the living quarters on the ship. Every room was empty, except for the odd scorch mark here and there. His throat was going dry again. Achingly dry. Nothing good had happened on this ship.

Poe focused all his energy on counting every room and corridor her had cleared to distract from any ominous thoughts floating about in his mind. When he reached double digits, Koa relayed over the comms that she’d finished with her search, and other than the odd dead body, she had come up empty. Odhen didn’t take long to remind them to hurry their search since the First Order would undoubtedly come in search of their ship.

After passing several sleep quarters, Poe caught sight of a body wearing similar clothing to Calista’s laying on the floor through the viewport on the door. He felt his heart sink when he couldn’t see much movement from the body. He knocked on the door with the butt-end of his pistol but still, the body didn’t move. Then he tried the door panel but the locks had been overridden. Paige’s voice was saying something about fuel lines over the comms. Poe couldn’t hear anything besides the loud and terrifying thud of his racing heart. In hasty, adrenaline-charged actions, he fired his blaster at the locks and the door whirred open, air forced its way out of the previously locked compartment. It smelled chemical, like gas.

Poe raced to the side of the body and rolled it over. It was her, Calista. And she was breathing, shallow. Poe sighed in relief, a laugh tempting its way past his airways. She stirred from the noise and slowly opened her eyes.

“You found me,” she said softly as her face lit up. Calista let out a cough as she tried to sit upright. She held a weird, circular object firmly in one hand. It resembled a bounty puck, but Poe wasn’t about to start making sense of that.

“You said I would,” he reminded her with a casualness that almost wiped his anxiety attack from memory.

There was something about the way she looked at him that made him feel like he was being pulled towards something, like a kind of gravity that only affected him.

“Did I worry you?” she said coyly, knowing full well she had.

“Hardly,” he retorted, keeping the atmosphere free of those dreadful feelings of worry and uncertainty. Poe stared into her eyes for the longest time, thankful for the fact they weren’t like Zeeke’s. And in that moment, having thought that, his guilt came back to bite him. He clenched his jaw and helped Calista up, she had noticed the slight shift in his countenance. ”We need to go, the First Order isn’t far behind us.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I’ve spent longer on this ship than I’d like,” Calista had a difficult time orienting herself, her muscles were too wobbly for her to walk straight.

Poe took the initiative and slinked his arm around her waist to keep her stead. Then he remembered the advice he had given Paige after her vertigo spell: “Shut your eyes. Take three deep breaths and then focus on your feet while walking. Your inner-ear should balance itself out.”

Calista took his advice eagerly and did as he said. Her walking was still uneven, but the crinkle that was set between her brows had dissipated. Poe finished telling Koa the good news when he walked Calista out of the compartment and through the halls wracked by destruction.

“By the gods…” Calista exclaimed in disbelief as she took in the state of the Sentinel Two.

Poe was confounded by her reaction, “You don’t know how this happened?”

“No…” she said with uncertainty, hand tightening its hold on the circular object he’d noticed earlier. Calista stalled for a second, trying to clear the fog from her mind. “I was locked in.”

Poe kept her walking, they couldn’t dally aboard an enemy ship, “Then who sent the distress signal?”

She glanced at the puck in her hand and then shoved it into a pocket, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just relieved you’re safe.”

Once Calista was safely onboard the Somnambulist and the gangway was retracted, the ship veered back on course to D’Qar.

Poe helped Calista to the mess and brewed her a cup of tea. Koa walked in from the corridor and stopped a few feet from the sitting area. A pregnant pause filled the space, and for a moment Poe wondered if things were still strained between them. But then they both put on broken smiles and embraced each other with the familiarity of two sisters.

“I’ll give you guys the room. I should probably check on the rest of the crew.” Poe realised it wasn’t his place, and to keep from crowding the two women, he placed the steaming cup on the table and made his leave. Calista wrapped her slender fingers around his open hand and thanked him one more time. For some unknown reason, that simple gesture held the weight of a thousand suns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to rush the romance sub-plot between Poe and Calista because I wanted to try writing a love story that wasn't based on initial attraction or just 'passion'. I liked the idea of feelings creeping up on both of these characters and manifesting itself in different ways. But more importantly, I didn't want it to overshadow other characters and plot. Hope you'll forgive this very slow burn I've got going here!


	17. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sorry this update took a while, I watched TRoS and I'm very unhappy. I'm still going through the motions, but now I'm certain that I'm going to write that Knight of Ren spin-off which will also be a fix-it fic. I really enjoy Finn and Poe's dynamic in the movies and wanted that to bleed into the story a little. The next chapter will reintroduce some minor characters from the beginning of the fic. Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you thought of the chapter._   

>
>>   
_Unique Vocabulary:  
Attuned: A variation of being 'force-sensitive' in Thesmoran culture. Being 'attuned' to the Ko-Katrah is basically being linked to the force but not necessarily to the point of being a force user._   

> 
>   
**Flashbacks in italics**

Calista

Calista spent the better part of the journey back to D’Qar conscious and talking, which was an improvement from her last stint aboard a ship. She had kept the bounty puck a secret, deciding it best to shelve that particular issue for later. Compartmentalising had always been a strong suit of hers, sadly.

As the Somnambulist traversed through the blackness of space at hyperspeed, Koa took the liberty of filling in the missing gaps. All the while, Calista’s hands toyed idly with the rim of her cup, feeling the heat of the steam and wishing it would envelop her whole.

Calista’s heart felt great sorrow for the loss of Zeeke, though it wasn’t because she mourned the friend he was, she mourned the friend he could have been. Koa took his death pretty hard, and from the look of gloom encompassing Ton-Ton’s form when he came into the mess to grab a ration bar, he took it the hardest of all.

As Koa talked, her skilled hands kept spinning a small dagger on the table’s surface like a screwdriver. Corkscrew shavings of vinyl were trimmed away by the daggers sharp edge. Watching the knife spin in an unending loop made Calista feel nauseous, bile crept up her throat as her heart rate quickened to a discomforting pace. The room began to close in on her, shrinking around her even though everything stayed the same. Koa kept speaking, unaware of the walls closing in. Calista couldn’t hear her over the pressure building in her ears, she tried to take a sip of her tea but her hands and muscles shook with micro tremors. That was when she understood what was happening.

The panic attack didn’t give her the courtesy of a slow build-up. Instead, it brought with it a searing migraine that made the light seem overly bright. She couldn’t sit still in the kitchen area anymore.

She pinched the bridge of her nose as a gasp escaped her lips. The teacup was knocked over by one of her elbows and the hot liquid cascaded onto the floor like a poor-man's waterfall.

Koa’s eyes widened with worry as she reached for Calista’s hands, “Are you--?”

Before Koa could reach her, Calista stood from her seat, trying to mumble excuses so she wouldn’t be followed. Swiftly, she made her way to the one place on the Somnambulist she felt half at ease.

Her breathing became irregular and shaky as the migraine burned at the back of her eyes. Calista braced her head with one hand while the other sought after a wall to keep her world steady despite the budding claustrophobia making everything appear narrow. Flashes of her time on the Sentinel Two wormed their way back into the forefront of her thoughts.

_“In you go, Princess,” the trooper shoved her into a holding cell and made a dry joke before locking the door._

_Calista tumbled onto the floor, her shoulder knocking into a sharp edge of a piece of furniture. The ship was brightly lit, yet colder than the Somnambulist. The lights buzzed loudly as she traced the walls for loose panelling or structural weaknesses to exploit._

_In frustration, she pounded her fist on the door several times until her skin grew hot._

Calista stumbled as her hand left the walls once she found the stairs to get to the lower decks. She was hyperventilating now, but she was thankful for the soft lighting in the engine room. The hum of the engine vibrated through the floor and walls like a turbine womb.

Sighing in relief when the pain dulled a little, she braced her arms as she let the darkness envelope her, allowing herself to feel everything in the comfort of isolation.

_Calista sank onto the floor with her legs crossed at the ankle. A sinister idea popped into her head when she saw the round curve of the grenade still in her pocket. _

_Her finger toyed with the grenade's trigger, pressing down with a feather-light touch before drawing back again. She contemplated how much change a single grenade could bring. _

_She had been locked in the room for almost half an hour. Her window of opportunity was closing. Soon, she’d be at the mercy of Maligma and the First Order. And then she’d no longer be in control of her own fate. _

_The grenade offered her a choice to change her fate, make it her own. Even if it was a terrible choice. In a cramped space, encased in conductive metal, an ion grenade would turn the entire room into bottled lightning. Time in the Academy had taught her a thing or two about contained explosions. If the pressure was strong enough from the initial blast, it could rip the door off its hinges, and rip her body apart as well._

_The choice wasn’t much of a choice, but it was the only one she had left. Her diaphragm contracted as it tried to force air out of her lungs, Calista found it almost impossible to breathe. Her finger returned to the trigger, this time ready to press down a bit harder._

Calista tried to stop remembering. The memory tasted sour, like acid. It forced her heart to pump blood faster –to remind her she was still there, in one piece.

She was alive. And that hurt.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried counting down from a high number. Calista was painfully aware of the fact the grenade was no longer in her pocket. Her throat felt dry.

_Calista hadn’t swallowed the entire time her finger was on the trigger. Before she could make her choice; freedom or prisoner, the door zipped open and a feminine voice spoke out, almost mockingly: “Contemplating your final swan song, Princess?”_

_A dark laugh trickled out of the trooper’s helmet._

_Calista let herself breathe again as her thumb inched away from the trigger, “Contemplating my choices.”_

_“Doesn’t seem like a good one.”_

_“I don’t disagree.”_

_The trooper laughed once more as she gazed at a gadget displaying a countdown. The trooper stretched her hand out, “You’ll be handing that over now.”_

_Calista stood, eyes narrowing to look committed, “And what’s to stop me from using it?”_

_The trooper glanced behind her shoulder when noise sounded out. After a beat, she returned her gaze to Calista, her hand still waiting expectantly. “The same thing that kept you from using it before I walked in. Now hand it over. Please. My job would become extremely difficult if we both ended up as limb confetti.” She glanced at the timer just as the lights flickered throughout the ship._

_Calista could sense something amiss about this entire interaction. “Who are you?”_

_“Right now? I’m the closest thing you have to a miracle,” she replied just as the lights shut off. The timer beeped as the countdown ended. Several voices called out in a panic as the ship jostled violently. Then it went quiet. _

_“We’ve pulled out of hyperspeed,” Calista realised, then her gaze fell on the flashing countdown. “You did this?”_

_ The trooper snapped her fingers, “Grenade. Now.” _

_Calista handed it over begrudgingly. The trooper pressed down the trigger and threw it out into the next room before overriding the locks and sealing them both inside the cell._

_The grenade burst into lively sparks of electricity that clung to the walls. The pressure cracked the viewport of the door and ripped through a larger viewport on the far end of the ship. Air was sucked out by the vacuum of space, taking one unsuspecting trooper with it before the emergency pressure seals descended. Red light flooded the entire ship as an alarm blared. Boots stomped in unison as soldiers scrambled to take defensive positions._

_The trooper checked her weapons scopes. The rifle looked familiar. _

_Calista clenched her fist, “You’re the one who shot Poe.”_

_“No. I removed him from the board. I had a clean shot, I could’ve taken it if I wanted him dead.” The trooper sighed before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a puck. “Here,” She handed it to Calista. “My employer gave me strict instructions to make sure this got in your hands.”_

_“You’re a mercenary,” Calista pieced together._

_“Maya Loshaan, reporting for duty,” she replied sarcastically as she moved toward the viewport to check the corners._

_“Who hired you?”_

_“It seems you have some friends in low places.”_

_“Murray,” Calista frowned. “Why?”_

_“I didn’t ask.”_

_Calista stared at the puck for a brief second before activating it. A hologram of a man’s face popped up. He looked familiar, like an old acquaintance or a distant friend. Half his face was scarred by scorch marks and part of his lip was mangled by a deep cut. She pressed a separate button that brought up the bounty information. Versengen’s name was printed in bold letters across the hologram. Beneath that was his real name._

_“It can’t be…” Calista murmured in disbelief as her eyes went large._

_“Sit tight while I do a little housekeeping,” Maya opened the door and pressed several keys on her datapad. The room began to fill with gas as the door locked Calista inside, again. Maya’s rifle shot off several blasts that streaked through the air._

_Calista could feel the gas forcing its way into her lungs. The burn was superficial, what irked her the most was that it made it very hard to stand, or blink, or cough. _

_“Sleep tight, Princess.” Maya raised her rifle so it rested against her collar bone. She took one step forward and then turned around to whisper one more thing: “Little advice, breathe deep. It’ll pass quicker.”_

_Calista fell onto the floor, she felt no pain as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. _

The shaking passed after her breathing had evened out. Being in the dark helped, it was the only time Calista felt free from the ever-watchful eyes of everyone else. The last time she had a panic attack, Calista had been a child. It happened after her mother’s convoy had been ambushed while she was on a diplomatic mission.

Many things had changed after that incident, but none more so than Mokk-Toh. He had stopped playing in the palace gardens with her and Felix. He had stopped reading under the pink petal tree in the courtyard. He had stopped smiling. As a child, she had always wondered what had happened that was terrible enough to dampen his once bright spirits. Now she knew why.

Calista threw the bounty puck at the wall, but it refused to break. The loud dinging noise it generated ushered a pair of boots into the room.

“There you are,” Poe looked at her with deep concern as he knelled next to her. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Koa said you seemed upset…” His hand skimmed her cheek and Calista realised she must have cried at some point because her face was wet. “Are you okay?”

Calista opened her mouth but no sounds came out, then she shook her head. Poe was tentative at first, unsure of how to proceed, but then something in his expression changed as he cradled her gently against his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

She shook her head again, finding her thoughts easier to sift through as she listened to Poe’s heart thrum fast beneath her. There was a stain of blood around the singed part of his shirt. She could vividly remember what it felt like to plunge the stim into his neck, and the look of hurt in his face when she’d done it. “I haven’t apologised, have I?”

His voice was thicker than usual, a gentle whisper, “For what?”

She traced the spot of irritated skin where she had jabbed the stim into his neck and Poe drew in a reflexive breath. Her voice quivered, “For leaving you that way on Telos.”

“Well…” He took hold of her hand and held it away from his neck, his thumb rubbing circles on her palm. “It wasn’t my fondest goodbye, but you did save my life.”

She squeezed his hand back, “And you saved mine. Does that make us even?”

“I didn’t know we were keeping score,” Poe’s hands curled tighter around her, making her feel safe and warm. “But if you ask me, I think we were supposed to meet each other so we could save each other.”

Calista leaned forward to keep his eye level, one eyebrow arched. “That sounds dangerously close to a romantic sentiment, _Commander_.” She recalled their earlier conversation amongst the shipwrecks, using his own words with a hefty serving of harmless mordacity

He chuckled again, the sound rattling his chest in the same comforting way the engine room thrummed. “Someone once told me that it doesn’t hurt to be a romantic… sometimes.”

“Sounds like good advice,” She bit back a proud grin. Poe rolled his eyes at her playfully before she nestled back into his embrace. After a pause, she felt herself begin to drift, “Tell me more about your homeworld.”

Poe’s voice was gruffer, the need for sleep obvious in his languid tone. “If it’ll help. What do you want to know?”

“What was your home like?”

Poe shifted subtly, “Like most homes I suppose.”

“Hmm,” She felt herself start to relax. “And what are most homes like?”

“Uh…” He thought hard for a moment. “You know, walls. A roof. Sturdy foundations?”

She laughed, the sound almost foreign to her own ears. “That’s quite the vivid picture you paint,” she poked fun at him.

“I have a gift,” he replied with smug sarcasm.

There was a pause before Calista whispered, “Poe.”

He held in a breath, “Yeah?”

Calista heaved a soft sigh, “I’m glad it was you Leia sent to Takodana. I can’t imagine having gotten through all of this without your help.”

He let out a deep exhale that almost sounded disappointed, “You know… you’re not what I expected. I’d all but made my mind up about you before I met you. I thought you’d be like all the other politicians and dignitaries I’d met before. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m glad I stuck around long enough for you to prove me wrong, _Princess_. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve met.”

Calista snorted, her hands waving at her blotchy eyes and the dark space around them, “Because I’m the epitome of strength right now.”

He tilted her chin up to face him, “_Especially_ now. Because despite everything, you’re still here. Even if _here _is a dark engine room.” He wise-cracked with an amused huff. “I’ve had my fair share of sitting-in-the-dark moments too. Nine times out of ten, the only reason I was strong enough to face all the shit that waits for us out there was because someone cared enough to have my back. We all need support systems. No person is an island.”

Calista had latched onto one word from Poe’s speech, and she couldn’t help but tease. “Is this your way of saying you care about me?”

Now it was Poe’s turn to open his mouth and have no words come out. The air shifted as their eyes met. Calista’s smirk was wiped away by the fluttering feeling that spread in her chest. Suddenly, she was all too aware of how close they were, how intimate their embraced seemed. Calista regretted saying those words because now he was looking at her the same way he had on Telos, before things took a turn for the worse.

She was frightened by how strongly she wanted to kiss him. She regretted not getting the chance to kiss him on Telos when their lives were in danger. But now, after the dust settled, she was glad she had been spared the pain of opening up to someone who could be taken from her just as easily as Zeeke had.

With sad eyes, she pulled away and Poe cleared his throat awkwardly as he stood and reached down to help her up. He ran a hand through his hair as he plastered on a smirk, “I’m saying we should probably get back up there. The ship’s preparing to land.”

Calista brushed her unruly waves away from her face, “Just as well, I should probably check in with the others.”

Paige

**D’Qar…**

After the crew had said their final goodbye’s to Zeeke at his pyre burning, Paige had used what little free time she had to enjoy the heaviness that came with being back on solid ground. Once she’d showered and combed the knots out of her hair, she made her way to the mess hall where she took part in dull small talk amongst her soon-to-be new crewmates.

A few minutes after she’d nibbled on half her plate, Poe strode into the mess hall and b-lined straight for her. He looked cleaner but nowhere near well-rested. The room greeted Poe enthusiastically, with cheers and claps on his back. In response, he put on his trademark smirk and traded quick-witted one-liners with many of the familiar faces around him.

When he reached Paige’s table, he nodded his head towards a quieter part of the room. “Leia called a meet. You coming?”

Paige had hoped to deliver her news in a more personal environment, but now was as good a time as any, “I think I’m going to sit this one out.” Poe furrowed his brows at the sudden revelation. She was glad that it wasn’t in disappointment. Paige sighed and explained further: “I spoke to the Sargent in charge of getting those bombers operational. I volunteered to crew one of them. You’re looking at the Resistance’s next Crimson Squadron Third-Class Bomber Technician”

Poe forced on a smile, “Congratulations, Tico.”

Paige noticed he wasn’t being completely forthcoming with his thoughts, “But?”

He tucked his arms under his chest and leaned against the wall, eyes directed towards the window that faced the X-wing hanger, “Isn’t bombardier a step down from ace-pilot?”

Paige let out a small huff, a bitter-sweet smile on her face, “Don’t get me wrong, hotshot. I still want to be a pilot. Someday. But after going on a hell of an adventure with you, I realised there’s so much the Resistance recruitment vids don’t prepare us for. Those big wigs barely give us grunts enough time to breathe between missions. It’s always ‘_Go! Go! Go!_’ and… I want to spend a bit more time with Rose before we’re forced to pack up and head out again. There’s always a threat looming on the horizon. Never the same with vacation days. Ya’ know?”

Poe’s eyes twitched, a look of disconnect taking over his features as his posture sagged. “I envy you, Tico.”

“Me, why?” she asked.

Poe ran his hand through his tousled curls, they bounced right back to perfection while he gazed longingly out the window. His thoughts a thousand miles away.

There was a reason he was the Resistance’s favourite poster boy, and only half of it had to do with his flying skills. Even now, with his eyes drooping from fatigue and his scruff growing a little past _scruff_, Poe looked every bit as larger than life as the very poster that made him famous. All that was missing was a floating tagline line above his head that read: ‘Watching over the stars and skies.’ Funnily enough, none of that had anything to do with why Paige admired him. She admired him for his heart and his honesty, and for still seeing himself as one of the grunts even though he was destined for more.

“Because you know what you’re fighting for,” he finally answered, sounding melodramatic.

Paige rolled her eyes and punched him playfully on his arm, “We’re fighting for the same thing, silly.” She raised her hands around her to showcase the countless people all working tirelessly with sweat covered brows while homely chatter was being exchanged.

Poe raised and then promptly lowered his eyebrows as a scoff trickled out of his nose, “It’s not the same. Fighting for an ideal is one thing but, fighting for family is… different.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Maybe he wasn’t being melodramatic after all.

Paige tried to lighten the mood, “Hey, how about when all this is over, you open a tab at some skeevy cantina and I drink for free?”

He chuckled, “Now that’s a promise I can make.” Poe squeezed her shoulder and removed himself from the wall, inching closer to the exit. “It’s been an honour, Third Class Bomber Technician Tico.” He saluted with too much pomp to be serious.

“Be seeing you,” Paige mock saluted with two fingers as she backtracked towards her table. A mischievous grin overcame her as she whistled just low enough to get Poe’s attention once more. “Oh and uh, hotshot.”

He spun around on his heel, “Yeah?”

“Be mindful of that princess of yours…” Paige watched as Poe’s face went through a myriad of emotions. Surprise seemed to be the most dominant. “She seems like a heartbreaker.”

“I haven’t the foggiest clue about what you mean,” Poe waved her teasing words away, but the slight flush of colour to his neck and cheeks –not to mention the awkward way he wrung his neck– told Paige everything she needed to know.

He really did wear his heart on his shoulder, even when he wasn’t ready to see it yet.

Paige would miss that.

She’d miss him.

Koa

Koa didn’t know what she’d expected of Zeeke’s funeral, but it wasn’t this. Of the many people in attendance, few had any words worth sharing, and those that did say something had nothing particularly new or ground-breaking to say. Everyone simply marvelled at how great a guy Zeeke was; how talented a mechanic; how brave or lucky, but amid all those touching anecdotes, no one once mentioned his brother or his shadowy past.

Koa had this sickening feeling that the people who came the closest to being Zeeke’s friends were the ones who were on the Somnambulist. There was something lonely about that. In a way, she felt like she’d failed him by not sparing two seconds to pull her own head out of her ass and relish those annoying, chatty moments she had had with him. Now he was burning on a pyre, surrounded by people he’d never met, and Koa didn’t know how to process how impersonal the whole affair felt.

Calista had ordered her to get her arm checked out by the doctors on base once Zeeke was ash. The thought of returning to the medical ward so soon after her last visit made her stomach churn. So, instead, Koa decided to walk through the base with no destination in mind. Maybe, in some small way, she was looking for a reminder of Zeeke. Evidence he existed before she’d met him. A mark of some kind. But the base was large, filled to occupancy and each room was identical to the next.

Eventually, after the turn to each hallway led to a new dead end, Koa made her way to the medical ward. As the doctor examined her test results with a knotted brow, Calista’s worried voice came flittering out of another examination room to meet her ears.

“Is there nothing that can be done?” Calista’s voice was low and troubled.

“I can see no medical reason to explain it. His vitals have continued to decline, and they show no signs of improvement despite the meds. It’s almost as if his entire body is under incomprehensible levels of stress,” a masculine voice filled with empathy and uncertainty replied. “I’m afraid I cannot, with my medical expertise, see any chance of him recovering from… _whatever _this is.”

Koa hadn’t realised her own doctor had been talking to her about her test results, and frankly, she didn’t care. In quick strides, Koa shook her doctor’s hand, said a half-hearted thanks and followed after Calista’s voice with worry slowly brewing in her gut.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Calista bowed her head slightly as she stared at Mokk-Toh’s unconscious form lying on a medical bed, her slender fingers wrapped around his long, bony hand. Koa noticed Calista’s thumb had the same sharp edge at the joint as Mokk-Toh’s.

The doctor pursed his lips in a somewhat disappointed fashion and walked towards a separate room with the gait of a heavily burdened man.

When she thought she was alone, Calista whispered solemnly, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a—”

A nurse dropped a tray of instruments and Calista started, looking back to catch sight of Koa standing by the doorway. Koa walked closer as Calista’s eyes returned to Mokk-Toh’s sleeping face.

“Is he alright?” Koa asked, putting a comforting hand on Calista’s slumped shoulders.

Calista feigned a smile but didn’t look up, “No.”

Koa turned her gaze to Mokk-Toh. He looked skinnier, older in some way. The skin under his eyes was darker, and his cheeks seemed sunken further. 

Koa frowned, unable to see any wounds that could be the cause for his state, “What’s wrong with him?”

Calista brushed a long, thin strand of hair from his face, “I… I don’t know.”

“Do you think this is linked to Versengen?”

“Versengen?” Calista’s head snapped away from Mokk-Toh as if she’d been slapped.

Koa was thrown by how quick Calista’s movement was, “Their battle… on Telos.”

An instant later, as if realising she’d overreacted, Calista blinked several times to regain her composure, relaxing the muscles of her forehead so they weren’t as knotted. The strangeness of her behaviour did not escape Koa’s keen eyes. “We were separated. I didn’t know they fought, but…” Calista shook her head, eyes narrowing. “No, never mind.”

Curious, Koa took a step closer, “But what?”

Calista stuttered, her head tilted to the side as if the words musing about in her head were weighted to one side, “I… I _felt_ something before I got on the Sentinel Two. It… it’s hard to explain… There was this rush of energy. There was something… _wrong _about it. Something dangerous. I fear something was let out on Telos. Something that should have remained locked away.”

“What did it feel like?”

“Power.”

“Do you think he’s _attuned_?” Koa posited.

Calista chuckled lifelessly, “It is rare. Then again he’s always had an uncanny ability of _knowing _things he shouldn’t. Perhaps he _is_ attuned. But if he is, he’s never said.” She let go of his hand and straightened her spine as a young officer walked into the room with sweat glistening off his forehead. He probably ran to the medical ward from the looks of him.

“Pardon the interruption,” the officer tugged on his uniform and cleared his throat. “General Leia has called a meet.”

Calista bowed her head slightly, a shining look of gratitude decorating her face. The officer made his own awkward bow with a flush colouring his cheeks before he hurried off to continue his day. Koa bit back a smirk. Calista’s presence could be dazzling when she needed it to be, but more surprising was how often she didn’t realise how much she affected the people around her.

Calista sighed as she tried to brush down non-existent wrinkles from her clothes, “Duty beckons.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Koa could see Calista was bothered by something, but considering all that kept happening, it wouldn’t be a far fetch to assume things were starting to take their toll. “You’ve been… _different_ ever since we got you back. What happened on the Sentinel Two?”

“That…” Calista’s hand sought after her pocket as though to make sure she hadn’t forgotten keys. When she realised what she was doing, she crossed her arms in a weak lock. “That isn’t something to be concerned about right now. Let’s go see what the General wants, and you can tell me what your doctor said on the way.”

As they left the room, Koa heard Mokk-Toh draw in a deep breath and pass a soft gasp from his thin lips.

Whilst Calista conferred amongst the ragtag council of seasoned rebels, off-world holographic liaisons and General Leia’s few most trusted, Koa caught sight of Poe lingering in the back of the room, making it a point not to dive into the arguments bouncing off the walls. He was subtle about it, but every now and again Koa would catch him staring at Calista with a twinkle of wonderment in his eyes. Whenever he did so, his posture would ease and his features would grow softer, kinder. Calista was equally as eager to return his sentiments when she caught sight of his secret smile.

There was a spark growing between the princess and the commander, Koa couldn’t deny seeing it, anyone astute enough would see it too. And from the way Leia subtly observed Poe and Calista’s body language, she proved to be one of the astute ones.

As Koa played the role of silent bodyguard, the rest of the room was in heated discussion.

“With all due respect, Admiral, the deal was for the Resistance’s aid to free the prisoners on Illis in exchange for the bombers,” Calista leaned against the table in the War Room, her eyebrows drawn-in stubbornly. “I kept my end of the bargain. Now it’s your turn.”

Gial raised a hand and cleared his throat before responding, “The deal was for a dozen bombers, Princess. You’ve returned with only eight.”

“And don’t be so quick to forget that it was Resistance fighters who got you and your people off Takodana. It was also Resistance fighters that went down with those other bombers,” Leia reinforced Gial’s argument.

Calista drew in a long breath, “I don’t deny there were complications—”

“_Complications_?” Another General with medals of rank pinned to his uniform spoke out with a hint of annoyance. “According to the reports, the First Order found you on Telos. I’d say that’s more than a ‘_complication’. _It’s a miracle you didn’t lead them to us.”

A thin man with a forgettable type of face linked his datapad to the holo-projector, “My spies have also picked up on chatter that Duchess Maligma has been in conference with a member of high rank within the First Order. If this is true, it means _both _your enemies and ours are about to get more powerful.”

“All I need is a ship large enough to carry refugees and an escort. I’m not asking you to fight _my _people’s wars,” Calista was losing hold of her diplomatic voice, her words came out hasty and entitled.

“But that is not _all _you are asking of us,” a woman dressed as a pilot said next to Poe. She walked closer to the table with a stern expression. “Those refugees will need shelter and protection. That means rationing Resistance supplies, which are already dwindling after the loss of Hosnian Prime. If you expect the Resistance to fit the bill, you need to bring more to the table… _Princess._”

Calista’s jaw muscle twitched, “And that is a separate issue to be discussed… _after _I free the prisoners on Illis. Which is why I need a ship and an escort.”

Poe quirked up a brow in thought before he pressed his fingers to the space between his eyes, then he stood away from the wall. “I volunteer Black Squadron as the escort.” A hush fell over the room and people stared in Poe’s direction. He shrugged, “No one said we couldn’t volunteer our forces.”

Leia closed her eyes for the span of a breath, “As commendable as that offer is Commander, Black Squadron is too important to send on such a mission. We need those fighters on the front lines.” She rolled her rings about as she spoke in a calculating tone, “Unless, another squadron leader volunteers their services?”

The silence stretched on for a few seconds more before a familiar voice spoke out behind a curtain of shoulders blocking the view to the other side of the room, “I volunteer.”

Everen made his way to the table, whispering apologies to each person he had to squeeze past. He looked good, apart from the scar tissue mangling one of his ears. He had also shaved off his hair so it wasn’t patchy from the cryo-burns. “Major Everen Tao, Gold Squadron Leader,” he said formally once he found a spot.

The pilot who spoke earlier scoffed with amusement, “If I’m not mistaken Major, Gold Squadron was decommissioned after your demotion.”

Everen shuffled on his feet, “Yes, Gold Squadron _was_ decommissioned, but my men have heart, and they’d be willing to get back into an X-wing given the chance. I don’t deny I haven’t made the best decisions of late, but at least I try to do what’s right. The Resistance is about helping people, and right now our ally needs assistance. So, if the council accepts, I’m willing to help.”

Everyone looked to Leia to say her piece. She gave a half-smile before clasping her hands together, “Well then, I suppose we should move onto the matter of the transport ship?”

The mind-numbing back and forth continued for what felt like hours until Leia called a reprieve. In one corner of the room, Calista spoke with Everen, while in the opposite corner, Leia, Gial and Poe conferred amongst each other. Poe looked like a child being lectured who was trying to hide his look of annoyance.

Koa stood from her seat and massaged the muscles of her shoulders, more than ready for some shut-eye. Just when she was about to head for the door, Connix waved her down from the doorway as if she had an urgent message.

Poe

Poe had spent the better part of an hour getting his ass handed to him by Leia and Admiral Ackbar for having recklessly volunteered Black Squadron without a discussion beforehand. At one point Leia had called him a ‘bleeding heart’. For once, Poe agreed with her. He hadn’t planned on speaking up at the meet, and as soon as he had, he’d realised how brash and impulsive he’d been. Granted, impulsiveness wasn’t new to him in the least, but those situations only ever involved himself. Being impulsive in offering up an entire squadron wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d blindly do.

“Damnit,” he cursed to himself.

Between the almost-kiss on Telos, the shootout with the troopers and charging headfirst towards the Sentinel Two, Poe was racking up quite the impressive list of reckless decisions. But he couldn’t help himself, he could feel this pull every time he was near her and it drove him crazy trying to ignore it. That was partly the reason Leia had given him a new assignment. One that would put distance–and presumably some perspective–between him and Calista. He had taken the reassignment much more difficultly than he thought he would, which was why he was in Finn’s room, ranting to the air.

He sat on a chair next to Finn’s medical bed, fidgeting with a piece of plastic. “I really wish you were awake right now, buddy. I could use an ear to chew off.” He talked at the unconscious Finn with his legs draped over the bed and crossed at the ankle. Poe sighed as he continued speaking despite his words falling on deaf ears. “Where do I even begin? So much has happened. But somehow it feels like no time has passed at all… even though _everything’s_ changed.”

BB8 rolled towards Poe’s leg to nudge him with a reassuring chirp. Poe smiled, running a hand through his scruff as he stretched out of the chair and started pacing until he looked out a window with BB8 by his side, his palm patting down on the little droids head.

D’Qar was the same as it had ever been. The people went about their days with a pace that was a few notches below panicked and a few notches above despondent. Wexley had always called it the ‘Resistance Stride’. The walk by which every Resistance fighter could be identified by.

Poe hummed to himself as he pressed his frame against the wall, “No, everything’s the same. I’m the one who’s changed… ever since I stepped foot back on Takodana. Ever since I met _her._” A wry smile crept upon his face as his thoughts wandered to the first time he’d laid eyes on Calista. Had fate not intertwined their paths, he would have been oblivious to the fact someone like her existed in the galaxy. Hell, he’d barely noticed her the first time they’d met, and, thinking back, he wanted to shake his past-self for not opening his eyes sooner.

He strode back over to Finn’s bed, boots kicking gently at the legs of the medical bed, “I wish I could tell you about her, buddy. She’s stubborn and inquisitive... and a great listener. When we talk, I feel like we’ve known each other for years.” He wrung his neck, fighting the flush of warmth that rose around his chest and cheeks. “And in the sun, her eyes light up, look _brighter_. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Poe sighed in frustration, the verve in his tone dying out, “Of course my timing couldn’t be worse –And I won’t even talk about the fact she’s _royalty _and I’m… a pilot. Now Leia’s sending me on another errand and I feel like this might be my last chance to say something…” He looked over at Finn’s closed eyes in search of an answer that couldn’t be given. “Should I?”

BB8 let out a soft whine and pushed his frame closer to Poe to try and comfort him.

Poe half-jogged, half-walked to Calista’s quarters with a poorly structured speech being rehearsed over and over in his mind.

_Just tell her how you feel. Be impulsive. _He tried to psych himself up, but his hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting.

When he reached Calista’s quarters, he paced back and forth until a group of technicians hurried past with questioning looks. Poe popped his knuckles and then rapped them on her door. After a breath, the door slid open and Calista’s face lit up.

“_Commander, _to what do I owe this pleasure?” she stepped aside so he could walk into her quarters.

Poe shuffled into her small space, “I… uh… I came to talk to you about something.”

Calista looked at him attentively, her head tilting to the side, “I’m listening.”

Poe placed his hands on his hips as he tried to muster up the courage to say what he’d come to say. “Leia is sending me on assignment. I won’t be coming with you when you head to Illis.”

“Your saying goodbye,” she sounded like the loneliest girl in the galaxy at that moment.

“Yes…” Poe hummed with the dry enthusiasm of a hanged man. He took a step towards her, his eyes peering into hers. “But that’s not the only thing I came to say.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

Calista could sense something was bothering him, she reached for his elbow. “What is it?”

Poe took a deep breath, “Accepting the mission –being on the ship with you and… feeling like a part of a crew again… being on that planet with you– I started to remember what gravity felt like. And that’s a dangerous thing to be reminded of for a guy like me. For so long, I thought the stars were the only place where I belonged. And I can’t explain it, but after meeting you I—”

Calista placed her hand on his cheek, “I know. I feel it too.”

Poe’s face lit up with hope. He was stunned into silence.

“If this is goodbye…” Calista whispered to herself while her eyes glanced at the floor, hard in thought. When she looked back into his eyes, she was filled with resolve. Without warning, she kissed him, passionate and deeply like an old lover he’d been reunited with.

Poe responded eagerly, wrapping his hands around her frame and pressing their bodies together until it felt like they were one limb. A pleasant whimper graced Calista’s lips when they parted and her golden skin was flush. Light poured in through the sheer curtains of her room and touched her face. Poe felt like he was drowning in the warmth of her eyes. In that moment, he would have traded in every star for a future in which she always looked at him the way she was now; with unrestrained awe.

But then the light shifted and the room seemed dimmer as reality set in. Calista sighed and pulled away, a sadness to her movements.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she said.

“I’m glad you did.”

“It’s going to be impossible to forget you, Poe Dameron,” she smiled weakly as she took small steps back.

Poe headed for the door, “It’s been an honour I wouldn’t trade for the world, _Princess._” He smirked at her with his dashing smile. The door whirred open and through his peripheral, he could see Calista’s fingers tremble over her kiss swollen lips. “Who knows… maybe we’ll survive this war yet. And then you can show me the ocean.”

“And maybe you can show me the temples on Yavin.”

“I’d like that,” Poe didn’t want to take that final step out of her room. Then the base’s alarm pierced through the quiet.

Calista looked around frantically, “What’s happening?”

Poe pivoted on his heel as he watched several officers run down the hallway. “Sentry alarms. Someone’s entering the planet’s atmosphere without clearance.”

“The First Order?”

“Only one way to find out,” he held his hand out to her. “Let’s get to the CC.”

The alarm kept sounding out through-out the base. In the distance, dozens of soldiers and officers began swarming on instinct towards their stations. Through the large windows in the CC, Poe could see a ground cannon to the far side of the base powered up and aimed toward the sky. Several other ground cannons went through the same motions. A hum travelled through the air as the cannons powered up.

Poe and the others all converged around Connix’s datapad with furrowed brows.

“What’s the situation?” he asked the room full of panicked high-ranking officials and grunts.

“It seems our scanners picked up on a ship descending into the lower atmosphere,” Connix looked over her data-pad as if it held all the answers to the universe. “The ship isn’t flying with a broadcasted transponder signal. It’s flying dark.”

“An attack?” Gial asked.

“Unlikely, they wouldn’t send one ship,” Leia countered.

“What of the ships weapons systems?” Poe asked as he peered over Connix’s shoulder.

Connix’s head tilted to the side after reading over her datapad, “Offline.”

“If the ship’s weapon systems are offline, doesn’t that mean they aren’t a threat?” Calista asked the room.

“_Aren’t a threat? _This is your doing. You led them here!” One of the captain’s in the room pointed an accusatory finger at Calista.

“Can we jump to conclusions later? There are more pressing issues at hand!” Poe bit back. “The princess is right. If that ship was our enemy, they wouldn’t wait to enter our atmosphere to attack.”

“Cannons are charged, by your order General,” Connix handed the datapad over to Leia.

“I say we take the shot,” Gial set his vote. Several other officers in the room shared his sentiment while few others shared Leia’s apprehensive look. 

The room burst into a frenzied debate as everyone spoke over the other. Leia stayed quiet, thinking.

Koa came sprinting down from the hallway, her breathing heavy. Calista supported Koa’s frame with both her hands. Koa swallowed before speaking, “Mokk-Toh, he’s missing.”

Adding to the chaos, the entire base lost power and went silent; the cannons powered down and the rest of the Resistance fighters stopped racing about.

“By the stars, what is it now?” Poe asked in frustration.

Connix pressed her finger on her comm-link and her eyes went wide, “General, one of our generators has been sabotaged. A sword was found lodged in the main power converter.”

Calista stiffened, her head snapping instinctively to the window that overlooked the runway. “Mokk-Toh.”

Poe tried to reach for her but she had already made her way out of the CC with Koa in tow. Poe glanced out the window and saw Mokk-Toh’s crooked frame standing on the runway. His head was tilted up towards the sky, watching, waiting.

“Poe, follow her. Take a ground party with you. If we can’t engage with the ship while it’s in the air we’ll do it when it’s on the ground,” Leia gave her orders as several soldiers unholstered their blasters and made for the exit.

When Poe got in range of Calista, Mokk-Toh and Koa, he picked up on some of their whispered conversation. Odhen had made his way from the Somnambulist with a firm grip on his blaster’s hilt.

“You know who’s on that ship.” Calista tried to bring Mokk-Toh’s eyes back to her level. “It’s Versengen… isn’t it?”

Mokk-Toh finally removed his eyes from the sky and whispered softly, “Not anymore. Something’s changed. The ship isn’t a threat.”

“What does he mean?” Poe interjected as the base came back to life. The cannons reinitiated their startup sequence, but it was too late. The ship was low enough that debris from canon impact would cause destruction to the base.

She swore and asked him once more for clarity, “Are you sure?”

Mokk-Toh nodded, his expression a mix of fear and uncertainty.

As the unfamiliar ship descended, Koa shivered and instinctively reached for her stump. Poe and Odhen kept their hands trigger ready next to their blasters, and Mokk-Toh looked wearier than before. The ship landed with too much velocity, forcing the landing legs to crack through the tarmac. As the doors peeled back, a shape made its way off the ship.

“Is that--?” Poe couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence.

“Versengen,” Koa growled the name out as if she were an animal.

Poe and Odhen, as well as several other Resistance fighters, converged around Versengen, trapping him in a semi-circle with raised weapons.

Versengen moved languidly as though he weren’t outnumbered. Poe noticed Calista reach for her pocket with a despondent look. Versengen raised his hands and came to a halt in the centre of the semi-circle of oppressive blasters and menacing glares. His blood-curdling laugh broke the tension and made several officers tense.

“You didn’t have to roll out the carpet just for me,” Versengen’s hands reached for his helmet. “I’m honoured.” He pulled the green and black helmet off his face like he was peeling off a second skin.

Koa gasped in shock when her eyes saw the face hiding behind the helmet. She glanced from Mokk-Toh to the man with the half-burned off face. “Impossible…”

Poe’s steady aim faltered the slightest bit when he finally pieced two and two together. His own eyes mimicked Koa’s earlier movements, taking in the unmistakable resemblance. They shared the same eyes. The same cheekbones. The same face.

Calista was the only one unfazed by what was unfolding.

Versengen’s mangled lip failed to curl up entirely, his voice raspier and cracked than when he spoke through his helmet’s voice modulator. “Hello… brother.”

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Charecter Notes**  
**Paige Tico:**  
I felt like it was time to say goodbye to Paige's character at this point. The reason I added her to the fic was because I wanted to give her voice beyond the film and book, but moreover, I wanted to show the different ways the war in the galaxy affects people -especially someone who starts out as being enthusiastic and spirited. Also, I remember the Star Wars tweeter page mentioned Poe was impressed by Paige's piloting skills and I wanted to give them a bit more backstory as to how he would have been privy to her skills. I loved writing their playful banter and chemistry, and the subtle hints that maybe there could have been something more brewing underneath that friendship. But ultimately, it felt right for Paige to chose her sister over some important mission.


End file.
